Rivals
by Glamagirl
Summary: What happens when rivals have to team up to make it through? Punk and Orton were going to find out whether they liked it or not.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone in this story, unfortunately…

**A/N:** This is a totally random story that got in my head after watching MTV's Rivals O.O It will be rated M for language and possible adult situations. Hope you enjoy.

**Rivals**

He was having a déjà vu moment. That was the most predominant thought that ran through CM Punk's mind as he sat over one of the folding chairs neatly arranged in the catering area of whatever arena he was that day. So yeah, he has lived that moment before, many many times and in sooo many different ways.

It was like this; like many times before he was tired, he was crabby and the part that amused him in some weird kind of way because for some reason it always repeated itself, while he tried to catch up with some sleep he kept listening people whispering around their 'shhh, don't wake up Punk.'

Well, he was already awake and yes, it was all courtesy of all those assholes that kept whispering loudly within his hearing ratio. Thanks to them he hadn't even managed to doze off and he could feel the weight of extenuation falling hard on him.

Ah, but realistically speaking he had no one to blame but himself; he should have slept instead of going to the gym that morning but what could he say? It was always the same and he was used to his warped cycle of life. Airport, eat, gym, eat, bikes, eat, cat nap, stretching, wrestling, airport, eat… there was barely time to squeeze a healthy sleeping pattern between one thing and the other and in his early thirties, his way of life was finally taking a toll on him.

Thank sweet Jebus that it was all going to end soon.

Shifting in his chair and adjusting his cap so it would cover his face all the way to his lips, the Straight Edge superstar cleared his throat, his intention to make everyone know that their whispers just woke him up.

"Hey Punk, are you awake, bro?"

Blinking his eyes open, the Chicago native took in a deep long breath. "No."

"Good, because I gotta tell you this; that promo-shoot you said Monday night, that was the best thing I've seen in such a long time. I personally identified with it."

Punk didn't reply to that, during the past few days he has been put aside by many of his peers, some questioning him, some congratulating him or plain and simple telling him how shocked they were by all the things he said. And to everybody, his answer has been the same, none.

"At first I thought you were going to get in trouble but you are here and you wouldn't be here if you got in trouble. Hmm, I wonder why Vince called this urgent meeting; some people are saying that WWE is going back to the attitude era and that this meeting will be all about that."

Punk closed his eyes again and sucked into his mouth his lip ring, running his tongue through it and wondering if Matt aka Zack Ryder would shut his mouth and leave him alone. He was in no mood for people, especially if they were the talking kind.

"Anyway, here he comes Vince; let's see what this is all about. I just hope it's not a mass suspension… I don't think it will be because Cena and Orton are here and Vince wouldn't suspend them, the rest of us… who knows?" The young superstar said and even though Punk was not looking at him, he could visualize him sitting by his side and talking his heart out.

The question was, since then they were talking buddies? Exactly, since never.

"Hello everybody."

Came the deep voice of Vincent K. McMahon and even though Punk could care less about what he was going to say, he pushed his cap in place and sat up straight. Last meeting he attended to the Boss had the courtesy of calling him out loud for dozing off at the back of the room and in that particular day he didn't want the attention.

"I know you must be wondering what this rushed meeting is all about and I'm going to fill you in right now. As you know by now, this week we taped double episodes of Raw and Smackdown, some of you have personally come to me and asked me why but I didn't want to say anything until today. Now gentleman, to get ourselves a little warmed up I want you to take a look around and notice the group of people I reunited tonight, go ahead, take your time."

Snorting, Punk noticed how everyone who sat in his line of vision started to look around. It was idiotic, he didn't look around and just sat there, shaking his head and thinking that he should have skipped this meeting.

He could have lied and say he wasn't in the country or something; but no, he got the call and here he was. Worst decision ever.

"Alright, can someone here tell me what they notice? John, can we start with you?"

Throwing his head back, Punk closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Yes, bad, bad decision.

"Well, I see a bunch of wrestlers?"

"Do you see someone you dislike?"

At the question, John laughed out loud. "Um, no…"

"Liar!" Someone called from the back and at that Punk chuckled. That has been Miz, he recognized the voice alright and he was sure that most of the people in the room did too.

"But I have a feeling a lot of people dislike me." John responded in his always good natured way.

"How about you, Mike?" Vince asked.

"Yes,"

"Well that's more like it. Gentleman, let me tell you about a new program we have. With the WWE getting more media cover by the day and the PG era slowly slipping through our fingers, Linda and I started to think that even if we became less kid friendly, we want people to see us as a unit, almost as a family. But as we mused about that we realized that we can't do that with the ridiculous amount of animosity we have in the locker room and that's why we came up with the idea of sending you to a two week group therapy."

Unable to stop himself, Punk laughed out loud. That got everyone's attention alright and feeling all eyes on him he got to his feet and stretched. "Well, that's rad Vince, really… but I'm leaving in three weeks; meaning that I won't be here for your new pet program; meaning that I don't have to go to any group therapy."

"That's where you are wrong, Philip. You belong to me for the next three weeks and trust me on this one; you are the first one listed in this program. So why don't you sit down and listen to what I have to say?"

Wrinkling his nose and pursing his lips, Punk sat down once again and not caring if he was being childish or not, he pushed his cap down his face and tried to sleep the meeting away.

"As I was saying; with this program I don't pretend you all to become best friends forever; however I do expect all of you to collaborate and do the best for it to be successful. With that being said let me explain how it will work."

"After this meeting is done you will all go to the parking lot and get in a bus that is already waiting for you. That bus will take you to an undisclosed location where you will spend the next two weeks; and as I said before, this is going to be a group therapy, but because most of your issues are with a specific person, you will be paired with guess whom, your worst enemy."

"What a waste of time." Punk mumbled under his breath as the rest of his peers groaned out loud.

"I don't have an enemy, or do I? Oh, who do you think Vince will pair you with?" Matt said from his place besides him and Punk swallowed down the urge to say that if he didn't shut up he was going to get one very soon.

"While you are away, you and your partner will have to engage in some trust exercises and you will have to rely on each other to make it through… and win."

"What about or stuff, can't we at least pack?" Cody asked and there were a few whispers agreeing with him.

"Nope." Vince replied with a big grin. "Each pairing will be given one bag with a few essentials that of course you'll have to share. Anyway, that's the only thing I will say about that and other than knowing who your partner will be, you don't need to know anything else for the time being. So let's start. Mike, since you are very vocal let's start with you, you and Cena are the first team. As for now you two have to be inseparable so go and sit with your partner."

"No, why, Vince… is this for real?"

Without revealing his face, Punk snorted. Miz and Cena… Those two were not going to make it. That was for sure.

"Morrison, you and Ryder. Go sit together."

"What, are you serious bro?"

"I am very serious. Bourne and Swagger, Wade and Jackson… and Randy, why don't you go and wake up your partner, Punk seems to have a thing for falling asleep during meetings so from now on it will be your duty to keep him awake and alert if you want to win."

With that last reveal and as Vince kept reading names out of a list, Punk took his cap off in a swift movement and with his brows furrowed he looked around the room until he spotted Randy. The younger man had his head thrown to the back of his chair and both his hands were placed at the top of his head.

He seemed as displeased as Punk was feeling and unable to hold his tongue, the Chicago native snorted and addressed Vince out loud. "Can I have a say in this? I don't need any group therapy; this is the worst idea ever."

"Well look at that, he's awake." Vince said and smiled his diabolic smile.

"I agree with that, this is pointless." Randy said and Punk found himself nodding.

"Me too, as weird as this sounds I agree with them." John said with a chuckle.

"Me three."

"Well I don't care what you think; I'm the boss here and what I say is what you will do. The meeting is done so I'll see you in three weeks. Oh, and unless you want me to make you walk out holding hands, you better go to your partner and get the hell out of here." With that being said, Vince walked to the door and stood there, his arms folded to his chest as the group of wrestlers started to get up to their feet while looking for their partners.

While all this took place, Punk remained seated; his own arms were folded to his chest in the same manner than Vince's as he shook his head no. He didn't like the group therapy idea and he liked even less that he had to team up with Orton.

Sure, he wouldn't say that the current champion was his worst enemy, but after their last feud there has been some kind of animosity between them and it was clear that they didn't like each other that much.

Once everyone was out of the room, Vince cleared his throat and Punk looked up to him. He was still standing by the door and as he watched him he also noticed that Orton was standing near the exit, both his hands were resting over his hips as he looked outside.

"The bus is leaving, so you two get out of here right now."

Grunting, Punk stood up and keeping his eyes focused on Vince, he walked out the door. He was aware that once he walked pass Orton, the younger man started to walk after him and he snorted, feeling everything but amused.

These were going to be the worst two weeks of his life, he just knew it.

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

In the book of Punk, there just couldn't be anything worse in the world than sitting in the uncomfortable seat of a school bus for three hours straight while bumping shoulders with Randy Orton; no… there just couldn't… at least nothing that he could think right in that moment.

And adding to that the fact that Mike the Miz was somewhere behind him complaining about teaming up with Cena and voila, things only got worse. So yes, there was no doubt that he was in hell.

"I mean really? Really? At least they should have given me Riley."

"Ugh, for the millionth time, the whole purpose of this is making you team up with someone you can't stand and everyone here knows you and Riley not getting along is just a part of the show, you dumbass."

"So what?" Miz shouted at his partner. "As far as I can see this whole thing doesn't have a purpose to begin with. Or is it that Swagger and Evan can't stand each other for real? Noooooo, but since Vince wanted to screw us he sent us all in."

"I'll tell you what, the only one Vince screwed up here was me, by making me team with you."

Rolling his eyes, Punk slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand and mumbled a few obscenities under his breath. Cena and Mike arguing with each other was starting to really piss him off because one, they were too loud and thus they were not letting him sleep and two, because they weren't the only ones being forced into this so they should stop complaining once and for all.

Shifting in his seat, CM Punk tried to get into a more comfortable position without touching Orton, but as he tried and failed he realized that doing that was almost impossible; so, getting caught in an increasing foul mood he elbowed the younger man until he stirred from his sleep. It was going to be like this, if he wasn't comfortable then neither would be Randy; and if he couldn't sleep then Randy would have to stay awake too.

"I want the window's seat, you've been there enough time and since Vince said we had to share I say move it."

Blinking his eyes open for three seconds and then closing them again, Orton blew a breath out of his mouth and shook his head. "File a complaint then because I aint moving."

Watching as Orton rested the side of his head against the window and sighed loudly, CM Punk slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip and fought hard against the urge of grabbing his so called partner by the shirt and forcing him off the window seat so he could sit in his place. Of course, he didn't do such a thing and instead he got to his feet, stretched and searched around the bus until he found the duo his eyes were looking for.

"Hey Mike, I'll put you over in every interview I give from now on and into eternity if you'll let me trade you John Cena for Randy Orton."

"Deal." The former champion said while jumping out of his seat to begin the trade. But before either Punk or Miz could even take a step out of their respective seats, John cleared his throat and addressed them.

"Trust me Punk, I already asked Vince if I could trade this frog face for anyone at all and his answer was very loud and clear, he said no."

"Uff, what a bummer." The Chicago native said out loud in his most genuine disappointed demeanor as he allowed his body to slide down into a sitting position once again. Once safely seated, he 'casually' looked to the side and saw that Orton was very much awake and staring right at him with all the intensity of his greyish blue eyes. "What?"

"Nothing." The Viper said in his usual monotone tone of voice and Punk shrugged, his lips curving into a faint grin as he moved his head to the front so he could stare at the back of the chair were one of his fellow wrestlers was sitting.

He knew they couldn't trade, he knew that without having to ask Vince; but because he knew Randy's Achilles' heel was his ego, he has been sure that the sole thought that someone wanted to trade him for John Cena was going to activate his bad side.

And apparently it did, he saw it in the way the third generation wrestler looked at him and he wasn't going to lie, he enjoyed the knowledge that he bothered him to no end.

Satisfied with himself, Punk remained like that for a while, staring forward and feeling Orton's stare on him. But… as much as he was proud of the one he pulled on Randal, the Straight Edge Superstar had to admit that it was uncomfortable to a certain degree and he was left with no other choice than to tilt his head towards the other man and arch an eyebrow questioningly.

Randy's eyes were on him alright and Punk chewed harder on his fruity flavored bubble gum while his eyes returned the stare. It was weird… but fortunately, just when he was about to open his mouth and ask Orton what the fuck he was staring at, the bus stopped and his eyes moved pass Orton to look through the window.

Forgetting all about Orton and the way his eyes blatantly scanned him over a second ago, Punk noticed that the bus pulled over in some kind of woods; he also saw that there was a big house that eerily resembled a small hunted castle rising from the ground at least three stories high. It didn't look too appealing, of that there was no doubt, but apparently they finally reached their destination… wherever the hell they were.

"It was about time." Ted Dibiase mumbled from his place in the seat at the other side of Punk and the tattooed man couldn't help to agree. It was about time alright; his ass was even numb from sitting on it for so long.

And then, just when people started getting up to their feet, the doors to the bus busted open and two individuals, a man and a woman dressed in matching khakis and blue shirts jumped in while sporting what Punk catalogued the biggest fake smiles he has ever seen.

"Hello everybody!"

They yelled at the same time and Punk opened his eyes as wide as he could. Those two had too much energy on themselves and as a rule he didn't like those kinds of people.

There was no doubt they were high on something.

"We said, hello everybody! Come on, when we say hello everybody you have to shout back, Hello!"

"You have to be fucking kidding me…" He snorted, scratching the skin right below his ear as he shook his head in denial.

"So, hello everybody!"

A few of the guys yelled back, but Punk kept his mouth shut. That he was there didn't mean that he was going to act like a sixteen year old cheerleader, hell no… in fact, he didn't think that he was willingly going to participate in whatever those two buffoons had in mind.

Screw them and fuck Vince. What where they going to do if he all of a sudden decided to kidnap the bus and drive back to civilization, fire him?

"This is like going to the summer camp of hell. What the fuck was Vince thinking?" Randy said and for once, Punk sent him a quick glance and agreed.

"I know, I think he is getting senile and losing his mind."

"You know something." The woman said clapping her hands and catching the attention of those who were looking away. "When we were told that we were going to get a bunch of unwilling big guys into our program I was excited. I saw this opportunity as a challenge for us and we never refuse a challenge, right Pete?"

"Right, Mandy. Challenges make us stronger and there's nothing better than getting stronger together. Here in 'One Life, One Way' we have as our main goal to build the base of strong relationships; that means that all of you are going to walk out of here not only getting along better, but also trusting each other with closed eyes."

Snorting, Mike got up to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "No offense here, Pete… but this is really a waste of your time and ours so why don't you just tell Vince that we passed with flying colors. That way, you wouldn't cause us the distress that will be teaming up all together and we will not give you a hard time doing your job."

"Well, we can always do that, but where is the fun in that and how will you challenge yourself without even trying? Besides, if we do things your way then how are we going to be able to pick the winner and what would we do with money? Unless you want us to keep it."

"What money?" Cody asked and from his place Punk could hear some of the guys asking the same. What money…?

"Oh the money the winner team will get." The woman said with a shrug.

"Okay keep on." Mike said placing one hand to his jaw and the two hosts exchanged a knowing glance.

"Alright, now that I grabbed your attention let me start by telling you how this is going to work. Like you already know, this is a group therapy to build a strong bond between you and your partner so in order for you to that, each group member must become a unit. You'll share your rooms, you will share every meal and your belongings will be your partner's as well."

"That is going to be just part of the exercises, but the real deal comes with the challenges. For you and your partner to pass those challenges you'll have to work together and against other teams, that's the essence of this and the key to win this competition."

"Oh I'm so going to win this, I used to live doing this!" Mike exclaimed happily and sat back down.

"As I was saying, every time you pass a challenge and depending on how well you worked together, you'll be accumulating a series of points. There more points you get the closer you'll get to getting the big price of five hundred thousand dollars… each."

"Oh, get out of here." Punk said, his interest picking up for the first time since those two began talking all their crap because seriously, five hundred thousand dollars for a man who was about to retire was fantastic… no, more than fantastic, it was splendid!

"Yes, your boss wanted us to mention the big price because in his mind that would give you all the motivation to participate."

"Hell yeah, for that kind of money I'll even kiss this monkey and his dad." The man known as John Morrison laughed out loud and Punk wanted to add that for that kind of money, the so called Shaman of Sexy would also let his girlfriend kiss that 'monkey' sitting at his side.

"Then I'm glad it worked. So, I say grab your partner and let's get into the house. As soon as we put each team into their rooms we'll get something to eat and then we are going to begin with this. We'll meet each team individually to get to the root of their problems."

With that said and getting off the bus, the duo that apparently were going to serve as the hosts were followed by a few enthusiast that couldn't wait to accumulate their points.

On his part, Punk waited for the great majority to get down and then he got to his feet as well. "You know," He said, aware that the only ones left behind to hear him out were Orton, Ted and Daniel Brian. "Money or no money, this is going to suck big time."

"Tell me about it." Orton hissed, bumping his shoulder hard to his and walking pass his side and out of the bus.

"See, I don't need to wait my turn to get to the root of why I don't like you, I don't like you because you are an asshole." Punk yelled after him and Randy lifted a hand to flip him off, not even bothering to turn around to take a look at him.

Quirking his lips, Punk crossed his arms to his chest and shook his head. This was definitely Vince's worse idea ever, you could tell because there was no doubt that he was disliking Orton more by the second instead of liking him more. Before that day he just considered the younger man to be merely someone he would never be friends with but now he just didn't see how the two of them were going to coexist from now on.

But, for five hundred thousand dollars… shit, that was half a million and yeah, he wanted that money. Now it was to be seen what he had to do to win those stupid challenges without Orton keeping him back.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took me so long, I've been busy. Thanks for the reviews on last chapter :)

**Rivals 3**

"You have to be fucking kidding me." CM Punk complained in an un-amused tone of voice as his eyes slowly scanned the room he was being forced to share for the next two weeks with his very much undesirable temporary partner, Randy Orton.

It was a very small room; smaller than some of the rat holes he used to stay in when he was starting in the wrestling business but much, much cleaner. It just had one window, one closet, a door that lead to a tiny little bathroom and what was worse, one bed.

Now truth be told and judging by what he was seeing, the Chicago native knew at once that the next couple of weeks were going to be harder than what he thought at first and he wondered why he wasn't calling a cab to pick him up in that precise moment because really, as far as he was concerned Vince and his little new pet project could go to hell. He didn't need to be there… not at all.

It was just… the whole thing was just ridiculous… no, it was more than that, it was senseless, it was preposterous and it was downright absurd. "I'm not sleeping in that thing with you. What the fuck was Vince thinking when he decided to do this crap with us?"

On his part, Randy remained standing under the doorframe of the room and said nothing; he just pushed the inside of his lower lip with his tongue as he moved his head from left to right. Punk didn't mind the lack of response and kept on with his tirade.

"Couldn't he at least give us bunk beds? Or better yet, separate rooms preferably in different countries?" Oh but no, for some wicked reason the Big Boss decided that making two six feet tall wrestlers sleep in a twin bed was going to make them bond real tight.

Ha, the madness of that… and not that he was having bold thoughts about it and let alone with Randy 'The Jerk' Orton, but he was sure that the kind of bonding that could happen when two big guys slept in a bed like that wasn't the closeness Vince wanted to achieve by sending them into that therapy.

Puffing out a breath, the olive green eyed man lifted a hand to his face and ever so slowly he ran it from his cheeks down to his neck. Nope, Vince was definitely clueless as of what he was doing and Punk wondered who was going to be the surprise 'bonding' of the year.

Shaking his head out of those juvenile thoughts, Punk clicked his tongue to his cheek and went back to talking. "I'm telling you, Randal, last time I had to sleep in such as small bed with another dude I was eight years old and the other guy ended up sleeping in the floor with a black eye. It was my brother, he's a jerk just like you."

"Do you always have to talk so much crap?" The younger man asked and Punk tilted his head towards him to find a set of greyish blue eyes piercing his.

"Why, does it bother you? Because if that's the case I have to warn you that I can talk shit for hours; maybe tonight I'll talk until your head explodes and wouldn't that be lovely?"

Orton didn't say anything to that and even though he was grinning, CM Punk had to admit that he was kind of disappointed. There was nothing in the world that he liked more than a little back and forth argument and Randy with his continuous silence and stern demeanor was proving to be a rather dull partner.

How could they even co-exist?

Arching an eyebrow and widening his grin, the older man turned around and walked towards the bed to sit on it. Who knew, maybe it was better if Randy ignored him; after all he was sure that if they began to argue they were going to quickly get on each other's nerves and he didn't think he could win the big price while having bad blood between him and his so called partner.

Now, did that mean that he was going to propose a truce? Hell no; yes it was true that he kind of needed Randy to win but instead of all of a sudden becoming his BFF he just needed to formulate a plan in his mind that would take him to the ultimate price without having to fully depend on the current champion.

"Hi, I see you are getting comfortable in your new room; did you check your bag already?"

Upon hearing that voice, Punk tilted his head towards the source of it and noticed that the chick that talked to them at the bus was right inside the room. She was standing next to a very annoyed Randy Orton but even though she had a big stupid grin plastered on her face.

For a wild moment, Punk fought the urge of telling her that she and Vince could take the bag, the twin bed and ride it together into a far, far land of fuckery. Of course, he didn't say such a thing and instead he just visualized himself depositing half a million dollars into his bank account…

"Not yet."

"Okay, we can save that for later. But for now and before we all go to dinner, Pete and I decided to do a little exercise with each team to know how much do we have to work with you. These are just a few questions to get warmed up so Orton, why don't you go and sit with Brooks so we can start?"

Snarling his lips and eyeing her down, Orton did as he was told and went to sit at the bed and right next to Punk. The other man noticed this out of the corner of his eye and so he shifted in his spot so Orton's elbow wouldn't touch his.

"So…" The young woman said enthusiastically. "I was reading through your files and just by what I read there I think we'll have to work on you quite a lot, not only as a team but also as individuals. Now I don't want to enter into much detail here but according to the notes, your co-workers don't see neither of you as their favorites peers to work with."

"Really?" Punk asked with a smile on his face. In all fairness of being honest, if he was to be asked he would say that he was not very surprised that all those assholes backstage would say that about him.

In fact he was used to it and he has heard it all before. Not that he minded; they could all go to hell for all he cared.

"Really; it says here that you have a cutting attitude, that your sarcasm is out of control and that you act as if everyone is below you."

"Wow, and that's without entering into too much detail." Punk said with a chuckle that allowed his trademark sarcasm to sneak into the conversation.

"Orton, do you think that description of your partner is accurate?"

Tilting his head to the side, Punk fixed his eyes on Randy and waited for the response with a smirk on his face. He knew the answer, he just wanted to hear Orton say it.

"Pretty much, yeah." Randy responded, returning Punk's stare with one of his own.

"Alright." The woman said while writing down something in the little notebook she had in her hand. "So that's the bad and the ugly; now let me ask you this, what is a good attribute you can say about Brooks here? Something that you admire or look out to… and I'm talking in a personal level, I don't want you to say something work related."

"Well, I don't know him that well to say." Orton said as he sent the woman a quick glance before returning his eyes to Punk's.

"You were put together in this for a reason. You cannot 'hate' someone you don't know so take your time and think about it.

"Is this really necessary? I think it's stupid." The man known as the Viper said as he crossed his arms up to his chest.

The woman tilted her head and breathed out. "I'll tell you what, I'll give fifty leading points to your team if you just cooperate with me right now."

Chuckling at the blatant chantage, Punk shook his head and mumbled under his breath something about the whole thing being utterly ridiculous and pointless.

"It's easy, just one good attribute."

Blinking and shrugging, Orton straightened his back and moved his head forward. He didn't seem too happy about the questions the woman was shooting at him and well, he had to admit that he wasn't comfortable with the fact that the questions were about him. It was awkward.

"I don't know… that he doesn't care what people think or say about him?"

"And you think that's a good attribute?"

"Yes."

Squinting his eyes, the Straight Edge Superstar's lips twisted into a smirk. "And you do? I mean, care about what people think?" That was actually a surprise to him, he always saw Randy as someone who didn't give a fuck about anything. At least that was what the impression he had of him; that and that he was a jerk.

"Not your damn problem, Punk."

"Hmmm," The woman mumbled and then wrote some more in her notebook before locking eyes with the older man of the group. "What about this Mr. Brooks; in my notes I have that your partner's reputation is not better that yours. He is described as volatile, ill-tempered and he has been reported by a few of your own co-workers not only for his actions but also because of his words. What do you think about that?"

Punk shrugged indifferently, but before he could respond to the question Orton leaned forward and spoke out of turn. "I've never been reported to management, at least not for something real and truthful."

"That's not what I have here. Your record shows quite a few incidents and I can name you all… or better yet, let's just go to the last one. According to this, you did an interview a few days ago where you called one of your co-workers a slut, another one a rapist and you also questioned a few others abilities to perform their job; are you saying that isn't true?"

Randy groaned and Punk laughed. "A rapist? Who is a rapist?" This was the first he heard something of that and he found it oddly funny.

"That's not… you know, this is bullshit. First, I wasn't called into management for that intervie; second, I never used the word slut and third, the rapist thing was a joke taken out of context."

"Do you believe him?" The woman asked Punk and the tattooed man shrugged once again.

"Sure, this guy is a lot of things but I don't think liar is one of them. There, write that down as a good attribute, he's blatantly honest and I like that."

Nodding, the woman smiled and wrote it down. "Good, you have your fifty points. But one more thing, Mr. Orton said that he didn't know you so well so here's what I want you two to do, you have a few minutes to spare before dinner so I want you to take these cards and divide them in two, half for you and half for Orton. Each card has a question and I want you to ask each the other what's written there and the other one has to answer. Tomorrow after your fist challenge I'm going to evaluate you according to what you learned from each other."

After saying that, she put a small bunch of index cards in Orton's hands and then walked out, closing the door behind her and leaving the two wrestlers alone and sitting next to each other.

For a moment, Punk remained staring at the cards, but then he lifted his eyes up and saw that Orton was staring at him. "What?"

"I'm not sleeping in the floor."

"Well neither am I."

After that there was more silence but neither of them ceased to look at the other one. To Punk it was kind of weird because those were Randy Orton's eyes looking into his own and the awkwardness of the moment was not lost to him. After all they were alone in a small room while sitting on the bed and that was definitely a first between them.

And to think that they would most than likely end up sharing that same bed they were sitting on was even more awkward because really, Punk wasn't blind and yes, as much of a jerk that Orton was there was no denying that the man got lucky in the good looks department and human as he was, Punk was a bit afraid that he would end up doing something stupid while sleeping.

Shaking his head back to reality, the Straight Edge superstar blew a breath out of his mouth and without any warning he yanked the cards out of Orton's hand. "Let's start with this crap, the sooner we do this the faster we'll get the fuck out of here and trust me, I want to get out and the sooner the better. So let's go, you start with the questions, I follow. Shoot…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Rivals 4**

"Name five things you don't like and could do without in your life."

As soon as he heard his new partner Randy Orton read that 'question' out loud in his customary monotone tone of voice, the Straight Edge Superstar also known as CM Punk rolled his eyes to the back of his skull and then allowed his upper body to fall in a heap against the soft mattress of the bed he was sharing with Orton.

"Carbs, Nickelback, bad movie re-makes and people who don't know how to count."

After throwing that answer without really thinking about it, Punk took one of the index cards he still had in his hand and eyed the question briefly, the corner of his lips curving into an apathetic smirk and his eyes closing to slits.

It was ridiculous… the whole thing was, and as he used his free hand to pull at his shirt so it would stop riding up his stomach, Punk couldn't help but to snort. It was just that they had been doing the stupid question and answer little thingy for a while now and even though he has asked and answered some of the most silly questions in the whole world, the one he was supposed to ask Randy now was the worst question of them all.

Did Vince really think that he cared what Orton's favorite color was? Because he didn't; he didn't care about his siblings or that his most prized possession was some stupid car and he was pretty much sure that the third generation superstar could care less that in his free time he liked riding bikes or that every Wednesday night he would indulge in his infamous cheat meals.

That information wasn't going to make them bond, like at all; If anything, the only thing that little exercise was accomplishing was making him feel like he was competing in some kind of bizarre dating game show he was never going to win.

"Don't you think this is weird? I mean all this shit is so conveniently arranged that it's creepy. Like when you say that you don't know me that well and voila, out of nowhere that woman has some cards with crappy questions that will 'help us' in that department…"

"Was that question in the card or you just made it up yourself?"

Arching an eyebrow, Punk lowered his eyes and saw that Randy Orton still sitting over the bed. He was now facing in his direction, one foot set in the floor and the other one resting casually over the mattress.

If he would be an inch to the right, he would even be touching him, their legs brushing against each other and maybe even pressing together. But they weren't, even in such a reduced space they were keeping their distance and the only way they were linked in that moment was through their eyes.

"Anyway!" Punk said throwing the card with the favorite color question far away from him, then after doing that he took another card and read it out loud. "How were your days in high school?" Another bad one, great!

Blowing out a breath, Orton shrugged. "Not the best time I can remember."

"What, not enough kids to bully?"

Tilting his head to the side so he could look deeper into Punk's eyes, Randy's lips curved into what could be considered a smile. "And what makes you think I was a bully?"

"Oh come on, I mean… it's obvious. It is scientifically proved that bullies turn out to be the biggest assholes later in life so there, you are an asshole, then you were a bully; it's logic at its simplest form." Satisfied with his answer, Punk grinned, nodding his head slightly as he returned the other man's stare.

"Scientifically proven by whom, you?"

"Well yeah… I worked in a lab you know." Sure, he has done nothing in that lab other than sleep and being fired for being caught sleeping but that was not the point… was it?

At that answer, Orton lifted a hand up in the air and with his fingernails he started to scratch absentmindedly at his beard. "Then I'm sorry to be one who proves wrong this theory of yours but no, I was not a bully. Far from it, back in school I was that boy with braces, bad acne all over his face and no confidence whatsoever that was picked on by the bullies."

Using his elbows to propel himself up in a half sitting position, Punk pursed his lips and frowned. "You were bullied at school? Nah I don't believe you."

Not that he ever wasted a thought on it, but if he would have tried to picture Randy back in high school, he would definitely have imagined him as being one of those stud athletes who dated the head cheerleader and who would put other kids through hell during the day just for the fun of it.

He looked the part and as much as he was trying, he couldn't picture him otherwise.

"Believe it, it's true."

Snorting, Punk shook his head and went back to lying on his back, his eyes fixing in an undefined spot in the ceiling as he pulled his shirt down once again. "That's messed up."

Just imagining it felt messed up… Randy Orton as something other than perfect… Sure, Punk didn't thought the man was perfect, but if he would be the kind of person that allowed a person's look dictate his nature, he would definitely label Orton as perfect.

"I know." Randy said as he looked down to his cards. "So… what made you become Straight Edge?"

Chuckling, Punk looked down to Randy. The other man was still looking at the card, his full attention to it and thus giving the appearance that he was re-reading the question he just asked.

"Was that question in the card or you just made it up yourself?" He asked in amusement, repeating the same thing Orton asked him a few minutes ago.

As an answer, the man known through the Wrestling world as the Viper showed the card to him and amazingly, the question was there.

Like he said before, in that place, things were so conveniently arranged that it was creepy. Not that he was surprised with the question, all through his life people has been asking him the same little thing and he was used to answering; what really surprised him was that the question was in the card for Orton to read.

What if he had taken that card instead of Randy? They cards were randomly distributed by none other than himself so the chances of that happening had been possible…

"Alright. First of all, people don't become Straight Edge, that's just something they are or they are not. As for me… I was Straight Edge before knowing what being Straight Edge really meant. My father was an alcoholic and growing up watching him being like that made me decide that I wasn't going to become like him… like I said, this is something you are, not something you become."

Letting his answer float in the air so Randy could grab it and digest it, Punk pushed the small ring adorning his lip with the tip of his tongue, his mind swirling around the upcoming dinner.

He was hungry, and he was wondering how more questions he had to ask and answer before being called to dinner.

"Your turn."

Snapping back to reality, the Chicago Native took one card and read it out loud. "What do you dislike the most about you partner and how could he fix it? Hmm."

"The thing I dislike the most-" Tapping his finger to his lips and moving his eyes to Punk's, Randy answered. "Well, for starters I don't like when you call me Randal. Not even my mother calls me like that and you can fix it by not doing it… _Philip_." He finished by putting emphasis to Punk's given name and the other man nodded.

"Fair enough… but I can't promise anything; I tend to forget little things like this and maybe this will slip off my mind before my head hits this pillow for good."

Listening to the other man hum low in his throat, Punk took another card. "Tell your partner, meaning me, one thing he doesn't know about you."

"That I'm not more of an asshole than you are."

"Yeah yeah." Punk said as a response while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, well this card right here says that I should ask about your pets."

"I don't have any; the last one died of the willies. It wasn't even my dog, she just ended up dying in my place." Once that was answered, Punk quirked his lips and shrugged.

"So whose dog was it?"

"It was Beth's."

Nodding, Randy looked back to his cards. "So is Beth your girlfriend?"

At the question he was asked Punk guffawed. Beth his girlfriend… she would kick Orton's ass if she heard him even imply something like that. Hell, she would also kick his ass just to prove a point so… "No. She's just a very good friend." Not that Randy cared, but Beth was perhaps his best friend after Cabana.

"Oh okay, okay… I just thought that since you know, you two go everywhere together and stuff… everybody thinks you are going out."

"No we are not… shows you that you can't believe everything you hear. But anyway, let's get this done with. What color are your partner's eyes?"

He snorted at the question he just read because he has heard many people mistake the color of his eyes for years and he was expecting Randy to do the same and blurt out a 'brown'.

"Green." Orton said, plain and simple and unable to keep his surprise hidden, Punk looked down to him and grinned.

"I see you've been paying attention. Good, most people would have gone with brown."

"Well, they look brown from a distance; but then as you get closer they seem to be hazel and if you really pay attention you'll notice that they are green, olive green to be exact."

Arching an eyebrow, Punk clicked his tongue and his eyes locked with those of Orton's for what felt like an eternity. Olive green on greyish blue… he has been paying attention too so he knew.

In all fairness of being honest, he hadn't expected Orton to utter such an accurate description of his eyes and as much as his mind tried to, he couldn't come up with some witty remark that would break the spell he has fallen into by looking deep into Randy's eyes.

He had no words to say so instead he just stared.

But then, after a while the exchange of looks got really awkward and all of a sudden the air felt too thick to breathe on it easily; it was as if a huge tension was starting to brew between them and somehow he felt as if the room was closing in while they remained inside.

As a result, in his mind the room was shrinking in space and he could even feel Randy getting closer. It was almost as if…

"Fight!"

Startled, Punk sat back on the bed and his eyes moved from Orton's to the door. Matt, or as some of the guys indiscriminately called him even when they were backstage, Evan, was standing there with what looked to be a very excited look on his face. "Mike and John are fighting!"

Once that was said, the smaller man ran out the door and disappeared, leaving the door open and Randy and Orton watching at the door.

Now that he was sitting, Punk's leg was brushing that of Orton's, but instead of focusing on that, his lips curved into his patented crooked grin and he looked at Orton. The other man was staring at him with a smirk of his own and silently agreeing; they got up to their feet and ran after Matt.

At least on Punk's part, if there was a fight in that place where he was not involved, at least he wanted to witness it up close and personal. So with that in mind, he went after Matt… the thing with Orton… if there even was a thing with Orton, could wait for later.

~TBC~


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Okay, I want to thank you guys for the reviews and nice words, they really mean a lot. Now, I started this story just to amuse myself and I'm definitely having fun writing in. It's different to what I'm use to but I'm SO glad that you like it so far. It's pure random, so with that said, enjoy this one as well ;)

**RiVaLs**

When Matt ran into his room saying that there was a fight outside, what Punk has been expecting was to walk out and see Mike and John brawling and throwing fists at each other in a real live version of what they would do in a ring; and if not brawling then at least at each other's throats so he could nose in, rile them up a little and wait for the good stuff to happen.

How knew? He has also pictured in his mind a scene out of the Fight Club movie and he has been happily expecting to find all the guys making a circle around them so they could cheer on their favorite guy.

He has always wanted to walk into a scene like that,

But no, what he found when he basically ran out of his room was Matt standing in front of a closed door where he stood laughing quietly.

"They are in there, come on."

"You mean that they are fighting _in_ there?" Orton asked slowly, almost as if he was talking to a five year old.

"Well yeah." Matt responded with a roll of his eyes and Punk groaned out loud before slapping his face.

"Matt… Matt, you made us go out of our room so we could spy on John and Mike through their closed door?"

Turning around to face them and blowing out a breath, the smaller man arched an eyebrow. "It's not spying, they are fighting loud enough for anyone who happens to be walking by listen and that's exactly how I found out. I was walking out to ask when dinner is going to be served and I happened to pick up on their fight."

Pushing the inside of his lip with the tip of his tongue, Punk tilted his head to the side and looked at Orton; the other man has been staring directly at Matt but as if sensing Punk's eyes on him he moved his own head to the side and looked back at him.

With their eyes locked, the two men exchanged a look. It was kind of weird and Punk couldn't quite put his finger on what they were saying to each other without words, but it was something about Matt and…

"I told you John, I'm not going to fucking sleep with you in that thing so you either sleep on the floor or in the tub."

"And what makes you think I'm going to leave the bed to you, if you have a damn problem with sharing then you go and sleep in the floor."

"The fuck I will." Mike blurted out and soon after that a loud bang was heard.

At the noise, Punk and Orton hurried to the door and much as Matt was doing, they both pressed their heads to the wooden door so they could listen what was going on inside.

"I told you guys, they've been throwing things at each other too."

"You do that again and I'll…"

"And what, John? You can't touch me. You do as much as put a finger on me and the next thing you'll be doing is going out to TNA looking for a job."

"Ha, trust me here buddy, Vince will fire you a thousand times before he even suspends me. Who knows, maybe you'll be the next big thing in TNA coming next week."

"Oh please, as if I would sink low enough to go that stinking place, only losers go there so see… I'll never end up there."

"Hey, I resent that," Punk snorted as he looked down to Matt who was crouching down below him. "I worked there."

"Me too."

Nodding and still looking down to the airborne sensation, Punk opened his mouth to say something else but whatever he was going to say was cut short by the feeling of Orton placing a hand casually to his back.

"Shhh," He mumbled under his breath, and even after he said that and both men shut their mouths, his hand remained on Punk.

It was basically nothing, the man known as The Viper was probably just trying to balance himself since the three of them were standing in a weird position where Matt was crouching down, Punk was bending over him and Randy was standing right behind him. That he was touching him was the equivalent of his own hand resting on top of Matt's head… it was nothing… it meant nothing.

Furrowing his brows, Punk sucked into his mouth his lip ring and kept listening.

"I don't know what the hell Vince was thinking. This isn't good business, I used to do this kind of shit for years and this is not the way you do this. First, the accommodations suck, then you have the factor that he is making me team up with… well with you! I'm telling you…"

"Oh please save your thoughts. I've been listening to you bitch and whine since we first got into that bus so please, I'm begging you, go swallow some rat poison and let me breathe here!"

"Yeah how cute, rat poison… how so very cute. I'll tell you what, John; since it bothers you so much when I talk, I'll be talking to you all night long."

Shaking his head and snorting, Punk remembered how he said something very similar to the man standing behind him. He would have said something about it, but another loud bang was heard through the door and instead of talking he pressed his ear even more against the door.

"Stop that." John said, apparently through clenched teeth.

"Why? Does it bothers you?" Another bang, "What are you going to do, uh?" And then, yet another bang; only that this time it was followed the sound of something falling and breaking.

To Punk the sound was as if a chair fell to the floor and broke in two; then soon after a grunt was heard and what followed was complete silence.

"What's going on now?" Matt asked in a whisper and Punk shrugged.

"I don't know…"

For a while the three of them remained in place, none of them saying a thing while at the other side things remained in complete silence.

"Maybe they finally killed each other." Randy said, his voice low in his throat as his hand moved an inch lower in Punk's back.

"Does that mean we all have a better chance at winning with them out?" Matt asked.

"Oh please, as if they would have won over anyone anyway. Orton and I have a better chance at winning than these two have."

"Yeah, but like Mike said a minute ago, he knows how to work 'challenges' like this one and that he doesn't get along with Cena doesn't necessarily mean they would lose. Even a monkey would dance for money and the wining price they promised sounds ridiculously good."

Unable to stop himself, Punk smiled. The answer Randy just said was probably more eloquent that the automatic questions and answers he has been doing back at the room. It was silly, but for some reason it made him smile.

"Guys; what if they really killed each other. I'm not listening to them anymore. Should I open the door and check on them?"

"No." Randy said and at the same time Punk mumbled a:

"Yes."

Two to one, Matt listened to Punk and ever so lightly, he opened the door. Now, Punk has been expecting to see a lot of things, from John choking Mike to death to the two of them just sitting there acting very civilized to each other; but what he saw when Matt opened the door made his jaw drop and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent a burst of laughter to escape him.

It was just that…

"Oh My God," Matt mumbled under his breath and Randy just had to cover the younger man's mouth with his own hand so the two men inside that room wouldn't hear.

But it was too late, because as soon as Matt said that, both John and Mike looked their way and in a matter of seconds they were both on their feet.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Mike yelled and as soon as the words were out, Matt, Punk and Randy turned on their heels and attempted to make a run for it.

But… as soon as they turned they found themselves face to face with their guy host walking their way and they all stopped abruptly, colliding into each other before they could get too far.

"What are you doing out of your room?"

"We went out to…"

"Stretch,"

"Yes."

They all responded one after the other and before the guy could question them any further, Mike walked out of his room made a fury.

"Where you spying on me, really? I swear that if you open your damn mouths I'm going to fucking…"

"Michael, we don't use that vocabulary around here. I'm taking five points from your team."

With his eyes almost popping out of his face, the former reality star closed his hands into fists and responded back in anger. "They were spying on me! Not that anything was happening in that room by the way."

"Well I didn't see anything happening." Punk said in a snort and looking down to Matt he noticed that the younger man's face was red as a tomato. "Did you see anything, Matt?"

Shaking his head almost frantically, the younger man crossed his arms to his chest and stared down to his shoes.

"Well I did see something." Randy said with a smirk on his face as his eyes fell on Mike. "Not that I care, but I did see."

"Okay, I don't know what's going on here but I'm taking five points from Mike's team for use of obscene vocabulary and five points from Matt's for roaming around without your partner. As for Orton and Brooks… I'll be keeping an eye on you two. Now go and get out to the dining hall, dinner is going to be served in about ten minutes."

After that was said, Matt ran back to his room and Punk and Randy went out to the dining hall to get some food. They were basically the first ones to arrive and each one to their own thoughts, they sat in silence as the others started to arrive.

As they eat, Punk couldn't help but to remember the scene that he, Matt and Randy saw as they opened the door and he laughed out loud, shaking his head as Mike sent him across the table a look that could kill. As for John… well, he didn't look at anybody nor did he say anything.

"Shut up, unless you want Mike to stab you with his fork."

Tilting his head to the side, Punk's eyes fell on Randy and he chuckled. Was the younger man joking with him or was he genuinely warning him about Mike?

Either way he took it as a surprise.

"You know, I've been in a lot of locker rooms and I've seen a lot of stuff; but tonight…" He snorted, shaking his head as Randy's eyes moved to lock with his.

"That shit happens all the time."

Chuckling, Punk put his fork down on his plate and turned to his side so he could take a better look at Orton. "I know, trust me… I just never thought that of all people, Mike and John would be the ones getting to bond real nice."

"You know what they say, there's a thin line between love and hate… or is it lust and hate?" Randy whispered and if Punk was looking right, his lips curved into the phantom of a smile.

Arching an eyebrow, Punk's green olive eyes lowered a little and for a second he stared at the lips of the Legend Killer. Yup, that was definitely a smile. "Lust, I like that one better. It isn't as messy."

Randy was about to say something back but before he could do it, Mike got up to his feet and started to rant.

"This is bullshit; I don't have to be here. I have a hot girlfriend waiting for me back home and yes, I do have a girlfriend," He said, putting emphasis to that last word while looking at Randy and Punk. "And you know what? She looks way better than your stupid wives and girlfriends will ever dream to be so you know, I might go back to her right now."

After saying that, Mike made an attempt to walk out but John grabbed him by the arm and pushed him back into his chair. "Eat your dinner and shut your damn mouth, we are all trying to eat in peace here."

Amazingly and even though he yanked his arm away from John's touch immediately upon contact, Mike remained silent even though he didn't touch his food.

To Punk that was pure comedy and he couldn't help but to laugh out loud.

The rest of the night progressed without other incidents and when it was time for them to go back to their rooms like little good boys, Punk managed to sneak out and delay the sleeping in the same bed as Orton thing for a while.

But the delay didn't last too long, he hanged out with Matt for a while but after the younger man started to doze off while asking him to please renew his contract, Punk decided that it was time to go.

Back into the room, he saw that Orton was already in bed… occupying all of it; but because he wanted to take a shower first, he decided to postpone the sleeping thing even more. He didn't care, for him sleeping was overrated anyway, who needed it?

Once showered, he inspected the contents of the bag they gave to them. It had two toothbrushes, thing that he was very happy to see; a few boxers he prayed to God were clean, four shirts and all of them red, one deodorant and four pants. That was it, that was all they gave them to spend two whole weeks.

Snorting, he saw that the bag had a note that said that as they started to gain points, they could ask for more things to add to it.

It was ridiculous, really… but thinking on the money, he put on deodorant, a shirt and finally some boxers and of course, pants. After that he walked out of the bathroom and stared at the bed.

Now, if he would be at a hotel or at his home, he would entertain himself by reading comics, watching TV and maybe even checking his twitter to see what kind of nonsense people would write to him; hell, he would even go to the gym to kill some time. But since he couldn't do any of those things and since he didn't even have his phone with him, he didn't saw any other option than to going to sleep.

Tilting his head, he tried to study the situation, trying to see how the fuck he could get into that bed to sleep comfortably.

It was going to be a hard task and he wondered how the other guys were doing. Matt he left falling asleep on the floor of his room; sure, but he wasn't going to leave the bed to Randy while he was uncomfortable down on the floor, oh hell no.

Taking in a deep breath, Punk decided to turn on his jerk mode and walking to the bed he yanked the blanket away from Orton; his intention: Waking him up.

"Son of a bitch." He mumbled under his breath the moment he noticed that not only Randy kept sleeping, but that he was only in boxers.

Now, it was not as if he hadn't seen Randy wearing less than that, after all the man walked out to the ring wearing practically nothing. But, having to wear a very similar ring gear, Punk was sure that the first thing Randy would do after putting his in-ring attire was making sure that nothing underneath those trunks would move or worse, go out.

But wearing only boxers… well, with boxers there was nothing secure down there and since the man was sleeping on his back, Punk definitely got a glimpse of the package Orton carried with him.

Not that he stared for long, he wasn't a pervert and besides, it wasn't as if the man was nude…

"Hey Randal, move over or I'll kick you to the floor."

Opening his eyes to a slit, the younger man arched an eyebrow and taking Punk by surprise, he moved over to his side. The space wasn't much because really, it was a small bed, but as soon as he moved, Randy closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Punk pursed his lips, he has been kind of hoping for the man to tell him to fuck off or something; that way he would have definitely kicked him to the floor. Sure, he knew that if he would have done that, Randy would have gotten to his feet in a matter of nothing and make him pay for that… but still, that would have been better because those were waters he was used to.

Walking even closer to the bed, he climbed on top of it and lay on his side, definitely feeling the entire length of Randy's body touching him.

Not that neither of them could do something to prevent it, Randy's back was pressed to the wall and if Punk moved an inch closer to the edge of the bed, he would fall.

So yeah, it was fucked up; not only was Orton brushing against him but he could also feel him breathing against him and he most definitely was catching a hint of his scent.

Punk hated it and closing his eyes he wondered if he would do better sleeping on the floor. Either way, on the floor or on the bed, he was definitely in for a long night… the first of many to come and he wondered if he could go through it all with a clear head.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"He's been whining and bitching all night long and I haven't been able to sleep at all; I'm telling you, this is bullshit right here."

Blinking his eyes open for a second as his mind started to slowly crawl out of that hazy state sleep would always leave him in, Phil Brooks or as he was better known around his circle, Punk, closed his somnolent green orbs once again and drew in a deep breath.

A minute ago he has been peacefully sleeping, thing that on him was a rare occurrence, but weird as it sounded, the annoying voice of John Cena woke him up.

For a couple of confusing seconds, he had tried to understand why John Cena's voice of all people woke him up and then he remembered where he was and who he was rooming with, Randy Orton.

Apparently, Cena decided to visit Orton first thing in the morning and regardless of the fact that they both knew Punk was there sleeping, they decided to talk in their loud whispers until the Chicago native had no option than to wake up.

Assholes…

"You know what he did? He slept on the floor saying he couldn't sleep with someone who might as well rape him in the middle of the night."

Orton snorted at that and Punk dragged his hand to his ear, trying to muffle the sound in a failed attempt of falling back into a deep slumber. "Tell him to get over it, it was just a kiss and judging by what I saw, I wouldn't say that he was complaining about it."

"I know, but now he says that if it wasn't because you guys opened the door I would have raped him."

"Well look at the positive side; at least you didn't have to share. This one right there took all over the bed and I barely had space to breathe. I haven't slept at all either."

Biting down the urge to laugh out loud because he knew Randy was talking about him, Punk opened his eyes once again and found himself face to face with the wall. It was weird, because when he went to bed the previous night he has been facing the door and not the other way; but not only that, when he went to bed he was lying on his side and pretty much pressed against Orton and now he was sprawled all over the bed and lying on his stomach.

"But he didn't run his mouth like Mike did, or did he? You see, this man… ugh I don't even know how to explain it but he gets on my nerves like no other and I can't believe Vince is making me do this with him."

"Yeah? Well that was not the impression I got last night, I mean I was pretty much sure you two were getting along just fine."

Chuckling, John blew out a breath and hummed. Punk could hear it all.

"Not really… I mean… have you ever known someone who could really get on your nerves with little effort, someone who talked too much shit and all their talking made you dizzy and it gets you so mad that you just want to shut them off by kissing them senseless?"

Randy didn't respond with words but he probably did something to make John burst out a laugh.

"See, you know what I mean and that only makes me conclude that we were all screwed with this nonsense."

Before Punk could muse about what was going on or what they were talking about now, there was a knock on the door and he heard Orton grunting. "What now?"

After that, Punk perceived the sound of a few footsteps and soon after the door opened. "Hi, is Phil there?"

"He's sleeping." Randy said and Punk heard Matt chuckling.

"Phil doesn't sleep."

"No? And what is he, a robot?" John asked in a good nature laugh and Randy snorted. In his mind Punk could picture them all… and he wanted them all out of his room.

"Of course he sleeps, and very messily if you ask me."

"Okay, can you tell him that I came here looking for him? I have information about what they will make us do today in the challenge."

"Whoa whoa wait a minute, hold your horses right there little buddy, why do you have that information and why aren't you sharing it with me?" John asked while Punk's ear tried to keep up with all the sounds.

"Because…"

"If he wants to share it with Punk then let him; you go and check if your little boyfriend didn't denounce you yet so I can talk with the man here."

"You are only saying that because Punk is your partner and if he knows you know. I see, I see how this goes… traitor!"

Mumbling under his breath a few obscenities, Punk threw his pillow away and without even bothering to spare a glance to the three men talking in his room he got up to his feet and marched directly into the bathroom.

Once there he washed his face, washed his mouth and took care of his business. He did it with all the calm in the world, taking a moment to take a good look at his reflection with critical eye. As he studied himself, he took notice that even though he managed to get a few hours of sleep, he was still sporting dark circles under his eyes and that his hair was all a mess.

"Son of a bitch." He complained while running his fingers though his dark untamed hair in an improvised attempt to comb it. The result was somehow okay but he decided that he needed to either get a haircut or grow it as fast as he could because right now it was in the horrible phase of not too short but not long enough… he hated it.

Bu then… as he tried to make himself presentable, Matt's words started to register in his brain and forgetting all about his appearances he tried to hurry up and find out what kind of information the younger man had.

Whatever it was, he hoped it would make him have an advantage and who knew, win the first challenge?

Opening the door and finding Randy and John cornering the smaller man, Punk pursed his lips and grunted. "Hey, hey… leave him alone."

At the raspy sound of the Straight Edge Superstar's words, Matt looked up to him and smiled brightly before sneaking away from the two WWE golden boys. That way, leaving them behind, he ran to Punk and getting close enough to whisper in his ear he mumbled the cryptic words of babies and boats; after than he ran out of the room and left Punk frowning and chuckling. "What?"

"What did he say?"

Arching an eyebrow, Punk moved his olive colored eyes towards Cena and blinked slowly. "Why are you in my room? Aren't you supposed to be attached to Mike by the hip, or was it by the lips?"

At his words, Randy and John exchanged a look and the older man ended up laughing and scratching his head.

"Okay, okay… I'll go… I'll leave you two alone so you can _attach_ however you want… anyway." With that said, John left.

Squinting his eyes, Punk eyed Orton over, taking notice that the man didn't have the problem of looking like crap in the mornings like he did. His eyes were alright, his hair in place and he was even able to master perfectly the scruffy look of a having a beard without looking shabby.

It wasn't fair… not that he was bitter, not at all; it was more of an observation and he decided that yes, he needed a haircut asap. "What does that even means?"

Shrugging, Orton rested his back against the wall and pursing his lips he fixed his greyish eyes on the man standing across from him. "What would I know?"

"Hmm." He mumbled, his eyes refusing to drop from Orton's.

"So what did Matt say?"

Snorting and running a hand down his jaw, Punk's eyes sparkled in amusement. "Babies and boats."

Running the tip of his tongue across his lips, Randy lifted a hand in the air and then let if fall. After than he blinked a couple of times and snorted.

Punk barely took notice of all that and for some reason he got stuck in the way the man had just licked his lips… he has done in such a way that…

"Look-" Randy said almost in a dark whisper. "I didn't ask to come here and team up with you anymore than you did, but whether we want it or not we are stuck together in this and we might as well do what we can to make it worth it and win this damn thing. Now, your rebel act was cute for a while and all that shit but it's getting annoying now and you need to quit it. I know you don't like me, but get over it okay? So tell me, what did he really say?"

Opening his mouth and then closing it back, Punk furrowed his brows and snorted in amusement. "Wow, Randal… I don't know what you want me to say… but um, babies and boats was really what Matt told me."

Narrowing his eyes and doing once again that thing with his tongue and his lips, Randy took three steps away from the wall and got close to Punk, so close that the Chicago native could actually feel the Viper's breathing brushing against his lips.

Sure, Randy has done that to him while in the ring a couple of times now and memory told him that the only thing that he needed to do for Punk to think he was in full Viper mode was for him to press his forehead against his. But somehow this was different; like he said, in the ring Orton was like that and even though his closeness would always make him feel a little out of place, he knew it was all for show.

Right in that moment it felt personal and he could actually feel something in his gut telling him that Orton wanted to punch him real bad.

And all for what? He hadn't done anything. Ah, but let him, he wasn't one to back down from a confrontation and he was going to let Orton know that.

So, with the corners of his lips curving into a confident smile and using his tongue as well, CM Punk pushed his lip ring slightly out and arched an eyebrow.

He wasn't feeling intimidated by Orton and the way he was trying to make him back off; oh hell no he wasn't and with his stance he was almost throwing a challenge out there; telling the other man with no words that he knew he wouldn't dare doing anything to him… anything.

And if he would be stupid enough to do it, he wasn't going to stay there and let it happen.

But then, before anything could happen Orton tilted his head to the side and took a step back. "Fuck this."

Retreating a few more steps, the current champion turned around and walked to the door, opening the wooden barrier that separated them from everyone outside and stepping right through it before closing it as hard as he could.

All that Punk watched from his spot and once silence was all that surrounded him, he snorted once again and shook his head. "And what the fuck is with him now?"

Whatever, he wasn't going to waste a thought on Randy Orton and his change of moods. He had enough with his as it was. Shrugging, he walked to the bed and sat down, trying to think about babies and boats and their upcoming challenge... but as much as he tried, his mind kept making him think back to the way Orton has been so close to him a while ago.

It has been almost as if the man had wanted to kiss him…

"Nah!" He said out loud, staring at the ceiling while his mind wondered…

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Okay, so this that I have here is two chapters in one. I cut bits of both chapters and put them together (that's why it feels a bit rushed) to make things go a bit quicker. Anyway, like always, I want to thank you for the reviews on last chapter, I'm glad you like this enough to comment on it ;)

**RiVaLs**

"Good morning, how is everyone today!"

At the sound of the duo that served them as hosts yelling in unison such an enthusiastic greeting, CM Punk grunted out loud, pushed his plate to the side and lowered his head to the picnic table he was sitting at; letting everyone around him know with the little act that he couldn't care less about whatever those two had to say.

"Awful," Ted Dibiase went ahead and said in his southern drawl. "I mean is it really necessary for us to share one bed? Look at us; we are big guys and those beds are way too small."

"Yes, give us more beds!" Someone yelled in the background and Punk snorted, tilting his head to the side and taking a look at the man sitting to his right, JoMo.

"I don't know about you all but last night I slept like a baby." Smiling maliciously at the knowledge that Randy must have heard him say that because he was sitting to his left, the tattooed wrestler chuckled; hoping that Orton would get riled up over the fact that he has been able to sleep while the younger man couldn't.

At least that was what he told Cena back at the house when they both thought he was sleeping and he was going to use that information to bother the other man.

"Lucky you, my partner over here snores, he kicks and talks in his sleep and I didn't sleep at all."

"Sorry, bro." Matt aka Zack Ryder mumbled his mouth full as he took a bite of his toast.

Humming out loud while most of the guys agreed to Ted's statement, the woman host began to speak again. "Alright, I have to admit that the bed issue is something we are really trying to fix. We don't usually get some many people taking the program at the same time and the rooms are usually habited by one single person."

"We ordered more beds-" Pete the host began to say as he adjusted his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose; he was probably trying to protect his eyes from the morning sun that was shining so brightly above them and Punk wondered why they weren't given sunglasses as well as some sunscreen. "But we only got three beds shipped instead of the entire order. We are keeping them because we didn't want to randomly distribute them among you-"

"That's why we will use them as prizes. The three teams with the highest scores in today's challenge will get the privilege over the other teams to have an extra bed."

"I have a question." Mike the Miz said as he got up from his place and Phil just had to lift his head to take a look at him. He hadn't been putting attention to anything that wasn't his breakfast so he hadn't seen the man since he, Randy and Matt caught him sucking face with Cena.

"Yes, Mr. Mizanin?"

"What if I want to pull out of the whole program?" He asked, his blue eyes settled in the two hosts as John sat right at his side shaking his head and smiling in disbelief.

"Sorry, but Mr. McMahon was very adamant when he said that no one could quit the program. He also left a message for both you and Mr. Brooks. You can't make yourself be disqualified in order to be expelled. No one can as a matter of fact."

Chuckling as he heard his name being dropped into the conversation, Punk did a double take and faked an indignant expression. "Moi? As if I would do that… pleeease."

Actually, he hadn't even thought about that one…

"Anyway! Now that we answered some questions and cleared some points, let us tell you about your first challenge."

"This one is going to be an easy one and we can just say that it's a little exercise for you to warm up and share a new experience with your partner."

"As we told you before, our goal in this program is for each and every one of you to become a unit with your partner; we want you to walk out of here trusting each other blindly…"

"But there are steps to that, and one of the steps you need to take is sharing responsibilities."

"In this first challenge, we will assign each team the biggest responsibility of them all and we expect you to take it seriously."

"Because sharing that responsibility is only part of the challenge, the easy part of the challenge. Pete, why don't you present each team with their third member for the day?"

With that said, Pete pulled the blanket that has been covering a small cart placed strategically behind them and at the sight of what was uncovered, Punk laughed.

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Five points from Brook's team for the use of obscene language."

"What? Are you fu… are kidding me?" Phil complained out and after getting no response he shut his mouth and shook his head. "This is ridiculous."

"Good job, genius." Randy mumbled from his place besides him and Punk leered at him without saying anything.

"What are those?" JoMo asked to no one in particular.

"Babies!" Matt aka Evan Bourne exclaimed with a chuckle and Punk shook his head, dreading what was about to come.

When Matt told him the cryptic words of babies and boats, he hadn't been expecting to get actual babies… well not real babies, but the equivalent of them.

"That's right. These right here are your babies and you'll have to keep them feed, clean and comfortable as you go through your first challenge; The Maze."

"Are you serious, bro? Are we in high school all over again?"

"Here is what you will do, each team has a baby, Pete will distribute them to you in the following minutes and like he said, it's your responsibility to look after the baby at the same time that you put your heads together to get out of the maze. Now, the maze has different starting points and each team will go in alone; meaning that you will only have each other to get out; once you solve it, you'll find a boat and you will have to paddle your way right to this spot." The woman said as she pointed at the huge lake behind them all.

"The winner will be determined by the amount of time you get to finish the maze and then get back here and of course, by the level of distress you cause your baby."

As the rules were being explained, Punk leaned closer to Randy and with his lips curving into a smile, he spoke. "See, babies and boats. Seems like I wasn't lying like you wrongfully accused me of doing so I don't know? Why don't you go out there and offer a public apology to me for acting in full jerk mode earlier today."

Running his tongue across his lower lip, The Viper turned to Punk and with the full intensity of his cold eyes he stared at him. "I think I'll pass, Phil."

Arching an eyebrow, Punk nodded and fixed his eyes into Orton's; the proximity of their faces was something that was very present in his mind and somehow that was making him feel in another dimension where no one else existed but the two of them.

It was actually weird and as neither of them backed away, Punk couldn't help but to think back at the way Orton has gotten even closer back in their room. So close that they could have kissed…

"See, that's exactly why-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the Pete guy arrived to their spot and put the 'baby' in Punk's chest, giving the professional wrestler no other choice than taking hold of it.

"Yeah thanks, Pete; tsk." Phil mumbled under his breath as he grabbed the baby thing by one arm and looked at it. As he eyed it over, the plastic doll stared back at him dully and he had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "Hey look, Randal, she has your eyes… and your personality. I think I want to name her Phillipa." With that said, he threw the doll to Randy and before he knew it, the thing started to cry loudly.

"What the fuck?" Randy mumbled under his breath and then he lifted his eyes back to Punk; for a moment their eyes locked in confusion, but then Orton put the doll right in front of Punk and shrugged. "Here, you made it cry so you make it shut up."

Snarling his lips and lifting their so called baby, Punk swirled it around in his hands and tried to find a switch to turn it off. He didn't find anything of the sort and the baby's continuous wails started to get on his nerves.

"How do I turn this off?" He asked out loud and as a response, Randy threw his way a small toy bottle that was obviously empty.

Shaking his head and blinking a couple of times, Punk laughed with no trace of humor whatsoever and arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"It's a bottle so feed the damn thing and make it stop crying." Randy responded amusingly, his lips even twisting into one of his rare smiles as he looked at his partner right in the eye.

Growling a few obscenities meant for whoever had the great idea of booking him into that program, Punk took the bottle and pushed it into the thing's fake mouth. Thankfully that seemed to do the trick and the doll even closed its blue colored eyes.

"Okay… now give me some tape and I'll make this bottle stick in place until the challenge is over…"

"… Good, so now that there are no more questions let's get started. So teams, get up to your feet and let's get into the maze!"

Doing what he was told albeit a bit reluctantly, Punk got to his feet and holding the 'sleeping baby', he followed the instructions to get into the maze. It wasn't such a big deal to get to their entrance, they just had to follow the instructions Pete gave them in paper and that was it; before they knew it they were at their gate.

"Okay, this is easy." Punk said as they both stepped into the labyrinth. "We walk forward and if there are turns we go first left, then right. Then right, left, left and in no time we'll be at the end of this. Piece of cake."

"And where the fuck did you get that?" Randy asked in a low growl while looking up to the skies.

Shrugging, Punk looked around, taking notice that for now there was only one way, forward. "I just know, or what, do you have a better idea?" He asked, looking up as well and wondering how hard it could be to climb the wall and just take a look of how things worked.

If he had a whole view at the maze from above, he would definitely know for sure where to go. But the walls seemed too flat for anyone to climb as there was nothing to hold onto; it would be impossible for him to even try and because they were probably twenty feet tall, they were too high for the two of them.

"No, I just want to get going and get this over with." Randy said, stepping forward and walking into the maze.

Punk followed him, mocking him from behind while Randy remained unaware of it. He went at it for a while, getting tired soon enough but taking notice that the deeper into the labyrinth they would get, the hotter it became.

"So…" Punk said as they started to take random turns one after another. "When do you think you will feel like carrying little sweet Phillipa?"

Turning to him and wiping the sweat that was starting to form in his brows with the back of his hand, Randy blinked a few times and then shrugged. "You are doing a good job at it, keep up the good work."

"See, no sense of team work whatsoever. First you get us lost into the maze and now you want to evade your share of responsibilities. At this rate we'll never win this fucked up shit."

"Alright Mr. Know it all, if you want you can go ahead and get us out of here." Randy said in a hiss, taking the doll from Punk's hands and stepping aside so the other man could pass.

"Watch and learn-" Grinning and licking his upper front teeth, Phil went ahead and not even bothering to see if Orton was following him or not, he began to make a series of wild turns at random.

He went at it for the good part of fifteen minutes before Randy started to laugh out loud. "Come on, admit that you have no idea about what you are doing."

Halting on his tracks and turning around so he could smile in Orton's face, Phil blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. "Of course I know what I'm doing; you are just jealous because my brain is far more superior than yours and thus I'll be able to figure this out without thinking about it too much."

"Is that so? Then where is the exit of this thing?" Randy asked, taking a step towards him as his eyes locked with his.

"One more turn and we'll be there." He said in a confident tone even though he had no idea where the exit was.

"Really?" Orton asked and smiled, his pointy eye teeth flashing in front of Punk's eyes. "Then lead the way."

Pushing his lip ring with the tip of his tongue, the Straight Edge superstar turned around and kept walking. When the time came, he took a left turn and amazingly enough at the end of that corridor he could see the light… the exit was there.

"Son of a bitch." Orton mumbled, giving the baby back to Punk while he laughed out loud, more amused than surprised that he has been able to actually find the end of the maze so easily.

Not that he was surprise, he was great like that.

Stepping out in the open field and watching as Orton started to untie their boat, Punk chuckled.

"Ha, didn't I tell you I knew the way out, didn't I? We even made it out without causing any distress to this thing and we probably solved this challenge before anyone else."

"Well, you did say it."

Lifting the doll to the air and feeling happy as he has ever been in the last two days, Punk opened his mouth and began to sing at the top of his lungs. "We are the champions, we are the champions, no time for losers, cause' we are the champions… of the woooooooorld."

While he was at it, Punk stepped into the boat and all of a sudden some kind of bird descended and without giving him any kind of chance of doing something to prevent it, grabbed the baby and took it away.

At that Punk shut his mouth and followed the bird with his eyes, watching in a mix of horror and stupefaction as it flew far away from them with the baby secured in its talons.

For a whole minute that was all he did, watch the bird disappearing into the distance with their chance of winning the challenge and a bed. But then, the distinct sound of Randy Orton laughing started to fill the silence and he looked down on him.

The younger man was sitting down on the boat, looking up at him while his eyes gave away a sparkling glint. He was still laughing, for some reason he was laughing and Punk wanted to tell him to stop. But then Randy slapped his flushed face and kept laughing, shaking his head in a way Punk has never seen him do before.

It was really ridiculous, but before he knew it he was sitting down and laughing too. "I did tell you to keep the baby… guess I'll have to steal one…"

"We are screwed." Randy breathed out and at that Punk had to agree.

He hadn't been paying too much attention at the last part of the instructions for the challenge, but he was just going to assume that letting the baby be kidnapped by a bird wasn't going to make them accumulate points.

"You know, I should punch you right now for screwing this up. No one will notice… and if they do I won't even get disqualified."

Arching an eyebrow, Punk looked at Randy and for a second he studied him. This was more like the Randy he knew him to be and even though he wasn't sure if the man was serious or not, he was not going to take any chances; he was going to be on the lookout. "You can try, but you won't be able to."

Licking his lips, Randy tilted his head to the side and smiled. "You think I won't?" After saying he attempted to get up to his feet and getting in full defensive mode, Punk sprung forward and tackled him down.

At the impact, Randy grunted and grabbed himself to Punk. It all happened so quickly that when the Chicago native found himself falling out of the boat and hitting the water of the lake while being entangled with Randy, he was actually surprised.

Fortunately, they weren't very deep into the water and when Randy fell first, the water didn't even make it to his face. Regardless of that, Punk fell right on top of him and at the pressure Orton grunted again.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Orton spat, grabbing the other man by the back of his neck while trying to get up.

"You were going to punch me." Punk replied through clenched teeth as he tried to push Orton away from him. But it was almost impossible, the position they were in was a very uncomfortable one and the Viper was holding to him as if he was afraid to drawn in a foot of water.

"I wasn't…"

"No, and what was that back there?" Punk asked reproachfully; his brows furrowing and his face leaning a bit closer to that of the other man's.

As a response, Orton mumbled something under his breath and lifted his head up, then without any more preambles he pressed his lips to Punk's.

Just like that.

Surprised as hell and stuck in place by Randy's hand curling the nape of his neck, Punk closed his eyes and little by little, he started to act out of instinct.

Adding pressure to the contact of their lips, tilting his head to the right while Orton's went to the left and finally, parting his lips when he felt the warm sensation of Randy's tongue brushing against his lower lip asking for entrance.

That way, forgetting all about babies, boats and challenges, he kissed Randy Orton back…


	8. Chapter 8

If there was a word in his vernacular that could describe exactly how he was feeling in that moment, it would be shocked. Sure, he could argue with himself and say that flabbergasted was a more appropriate word but the truth was that it didn't matter what word he used, the fact was that he was surprised; very surprised.

Actually he was also feeling a bit lost, he was confused and he was definitely feeling baffled. He really was; everything in the last ten minutes of his life just happened so fast that his brain was still trying to process it all and he hadn't digested well the sudden turn of events.

First they made it out of the maze and he has been so pleased that they made it in good time that he could even say that he was happy; but then some kind of weird evil looking bird stole their baby doll and after that he got into a little brawl with Randy. Up until that part his mind was clear; if was after that that everything started to get weird.

It was something like this, he tackled his partner out of the boat, they fell into the water and then the so called Viper kissed him. As a matter of fact he was still kissing him and even though he was kissing him back, Punk couldn't really say that he knew what the hell was going on.

All that he knew was that Randy fucking Orton was kissing him and that with no baby, they were not going to win the challenge.

It was just… crazy…

But crazy in a good way because he definitely wasn't made out of stone and the way he was being kissed was mind blowing. Breaths mingling together, tongues melting against each other as they kissed long, deep and hungrily… it was just too damn good and he wasn't going to stop it; hell no, he wanted to drag the moment as far as he could and see where would this lead them.

So, angling his face to the right as Randy's tongue swirled with ease around his, the Chicago native buried his hands into the water and placing them over the rocky surface, he balanced himself on top of Orton without resting his full weight against him.

He was just hovering over him, his body merely brushing against that of the other man's but their lips glued together because Randy hadn't released the iron grip he had at the back of Punk's head.

It was as if the younger man wanted to prevent Punk from pulling apart and once again, the Straight Edge Superstar tried to understand what was going on.

Why was Randy kissing him? Why… why was he kissing him back? Even in his fussy mind he knew they would never get along so that they were kissing was only going to make things worse for the two of them.

It was just wrong. Besides, up until that moment he wasn't even aware that Randy was into kissing men like that so he honestly didn't know what got into him.

It was all too messed up and without a doubt they were going to end up like Cena and Mike.

But then, just as if Randy had been reading his thoughts, he pushed Punk off of him and the current WWE Champion ended up kneeling into the water; the little pebbles scattered below the lake incrusting themselves into the skin of his knees as he blinked a couple of times… felling more lost now than before.

"This doesn't fucking work." Randy grumbled under his breath while getting to his feet and Punk just remained there, pushing at his lip ring with the tip of his tongue as the olive green of his irises stared intently at the back door of the labyrinth they just exited. "At least it made you shut up for a while."

Shaking his head and snorting, Punk tilted his head to the side and watched in silence as Randy made it back to the boat; he was dripping all over and by the look of his face he was pissed.

"Okay, would you explain to me what the fuck just happened here." Punk said, looking at Orton while Orton ignored him.

"Where the fuck are the damn paddles of this thing?" The third generation wrestler complained as he moved his eyes around, looking everywhere but where Punk was still kneeling.

"Randy." Punk called in his serious tone of voice and even though he looked exasperated, Orton looked at him this time.

"What?" The other man hissed, his grayish blue eyes fixing into Punk's olive greens.

"Why did you fucking kissed me?" He asked once again.

Rolling his eyes and sitting on the boat, Randy licked his lips and blew out a breath. "If I didn't kiss you I was going to beat the hell out of you or I was going to fucking strangle you; it was a stupid way from keeping myself from doing it because right in this moment I want to hit you more than ever and if I look at you much longer I will end up doing it. And trust me, if I do you'll go back into that house with no teeth in your mouth."

Unable to help himself, Punk allowed escape out his lips a sudden outburst of laughter while Randy looked back at him with venom in his eyes. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… it's just that that's the biggest load of crap I've hear in my life but it's okay. I'll accept that explanation and I'll even thank you for kissing me instead of strangling me or knocking my teeth out; so thank you Randal, that was very considerate of your part." He said sarcastically as he got to his feet as well, snorting and shaking his head in amusement.

Now, Punk considered himself to be the biggest crap talker of all time so he could recognize when someone was talking crap to him and well, right in that moment Randy was doing just that. He didn't kiss him because he wanted to keep himself from hitting him or even strangling him like he said; he just kissed him because he felt like it and that was it.

Maybe it was that he got caught up into the moment and yeah, the factor anger could have been a propeller for him to act, but the fact was that he kissed him and not for the reasons he was telling him.

Clicking his tongue to his cheek and pulling at his shirt so it wouldn't stick to his back, Punk made it to the boat as well and lifting his eyes he saw Randy getting out of the boat.

At that he said nothing and just sat there, his eyes following the way Randy moved around. "We don't have the damn paddles." Orton said finally and as if taken out of a trance he noticed that he was right; there were no paddles they could use to make it back.

Frowning and forgetting briefly about the kiss, Punk moved his head away, taking notice that the lake has huge and that he couldn't even see the point they were supposed to reach; it was all water extending to the horizon, the labyrinth to his back and a little forest to the right.

Nothing more.

"Okay; let me ask you this, did someone mentioned that the paddles could be somewhere in the maze?"

Arching an eyebrow, Randy turned his eyes to Punk and for a moment their eyes meet. But then the younger man took in a deep breath and looked back to the maze. "Who said that?"

"I don't know. I'm just asking because I wasn't really paying attention to the last part of the instructions and you know… maybe we overlooked that part." And wouldn't that be lovely? No baby and no paddles… and it wasn't like they could go back into the labyrinth to check because the exit door was closed and by the looks of it, he was sure it couldn't be opened from outside.

"No." Randy said while shaking his head; if they are somewhere they have to be outside because I don't remember anyone mentioning the paddles being in there. They have to be somewhere out here." He said pointing at the trees to the right.

"Then go and get them tiger, I'll be here waiting for you."

Turning once again to him, Randy placed his hands to his hips and angled his head to the left. He looked nice just standing there… eyes blazing, shirt sticking to his torso and tongue peeking between his lips. Sure, that he looked as good as he did was something Punk had notice before but now he couldn't take his mind off the fact.

"You were the one who lost the stupid doll so you go and get them."

"Nah, I got us out of that labyrinth in record time so you go and do something other than getting kissy friendly with me."

Quirking his lips, Orton flashed him and icy-cold glare and said nothing. On his part Punk was loving it, he liked riling people and now that he had this on Orton, he wasn't going to let him live out of it so easily.

Who knew, maybe if he did an alright job this time, Orton would get SO mad with him that he would end up repeating that kiss in the very near future. Punk wouldn't mind that at all, in his mind there was room to explore that side of Orton and until they could find the paddles, they were stuck there together.

It could be interesting, with the doll missing there was no way they could win the challenge so why bother trying when he could use his time to make a little experiment of his own; the experiment of how long would it take for him to get Randy to kiss him again?

With his lips curving into a grin, Phil ran his fingers through his damp hair and letting out a sigh, he got to his feet and jumped out of the boat.

"Okay, okay, you are right… let's just go out there and find the damn things. I'll help you."

Without gracing him with a response, Randy turned around and started to walk into the forest. Punk watched him, nodding and after a few seconds walking after him.


	9. Chapter 9

Randy Orton was mad.

He didn't have to say it out loud for Punk to know it; no… the Chicago native only had to take a look at him to realize it. His shoulders were tense and rigid, his lips were pursed and every now and then he would mumble under his breath something that suspiciously sounded like foul obscenities.

And if that wasn't enough to give away his rotten mood, the so called Viper was making good use of his name and he was sprouting venom all around. Not from his pointy eye teeth though, but instead of heat his body was emanating toxic fumes that were menacing to choke Phil and kill the vegetation that surrounded them…

Okay, maybe the last part was an exaggeration on Punk's part, but the man did look angry as hell and to add more fuel into the whole thing, he had that look in his eyes that screamed complete psycho madness.

The Viper stare.

Punk loved it, a wicked part of his mind was taking extreme joy at the sight of his 'partner' riled up like that and as the younger man slapped leaves out of his way and kicked a few rocks into the distance, he was grinning.

"This is fucking ridiculous." Orton grumbled, the bluish grey of his eyes scanning around in search of the paddles he was sure they were going to find hidden somewhere among the trees and grass.

But so far they have found nothing; they had been walking around and probably in circles for the good part of an hour and by then, Punk had lost all interest in playing around with the man's anger.

True, at first he had made a few attempts of feeding said anger and he succeeded, because for every random comment of the kiss he stole from his lips, the younger man sent his way an icy-cold stare that could freeze the devil himself.

Now he was just walking around with him, feeling the heat striking full force against him and making his shirt stick even more to his stomach, back and chests.

It was really ridiculous.

Mumbling under his breath, Orton turned around and Punk sucked into his mouth his lip ring, not even bothering to look away. His eyes were more interested in the sigh ahead of him… a shirtless Randy Orton all hot and bothered.

"Did you find something?"

"Wow, first thing you say without throwing a fuck around. And then people say a have a nasty vocabulary… they should hear you talking, Randal."

"Don't call me like that." Randy hissed, his eyes delving into Phil's with an intensity that could have sent any lesser human being running away in tears…

But not him, Punk wasn't easily intimidated and besides, he had this idea in his mind that Randy was not mad because he lost the doll or because they couldn't find the paddles; he was mad because he let his walls crumble down and well, kissed him. So if he was putting that pissed off act it was because he wanted to push him away instead of admitting that he kissed him just because he felt like it.

There was nothing wrong with that. Sure, they were not friends and they probably never will but kissing had felt right and fuck it, if he had liked it there was no reason they couldn't repeat it.

Nothing more than that though…

Smiling slyly, Punk just tilted his head up and ran his tongue over his lips. "I'll call you however I want to call you… Randal."

Snarling his lips, the younger man looked at him head to toe.

Now, intimidated he wasn't, but as Randy looked at him through eyes of steel, he couldn't help but to think that he must be looking a hot mess. He was sweating like a dog, his shirt was glued to his less than stellar stomach, his beard was out of control and he was sure that his undoable hair was sticking in all the wrongs directions.

In a way he felt a bit uncomfortable and he had to fight hard against the urge of reaching up to his head to comb his hair with his fingers.

But he didn't do it because it would be in vain. Without the resource of jelly, that morning he just combed his hair as he could and went out like that. Now, a combination of the breeze, the water of the lake and his sweat were surely taking their effects on him.

"What, what are you looking at?" He said all self-conscious. That was his flaw, he acted like he didn't care about anything at all but the truth was that he was always aware of his looks.

He wasn't like Randy; his body wouldn't cut no matter how hard he hit the gym, carbohydrates were the ruin of him and now that he was trying to grow his hair back, he was looking like an overgrown alfalfa with the worst case of the sweats.

Of course, he would rather die a thousand deaths before admitting that to someone like Randy so forcing his mouth to curve into a mocking grin, Punk licked his lips and blinked slowly. "Wait… don't tell me that you want to kiss me again? Oh pardon me… I think the expression you like to use for kissing now is 'knocking my teeth out.', or was kissing the alternative of that? I think I'm confused now."

Apparently hitting a nerve, Punk saw the way Orton's eye flickered. "Would you drop that already and start doing something useful for once, like finding the paddles?"

"Nah, I rather mess with you. I kind of what to see how annoyed I have to get you so you will want to 'knock my teeth out.'"

"Keep like that and I'll get there pretty soon." Randy hissed and Punk knew that this time the younger man wasn't going to kiss him; no… if he kept on Randy was really going to try to knock his teeth out of his mouth.

Now, in his thirty-two years of living this earth, Punk has grown very fond of his teeth because well, he did stuff with them, but he never learnt when to back down and besides, he wasn't armless and if Randy all of a sudden wanted to fight him, he was going to fight back.

"I can't hardly wait." He said, raising his arms from his sides and shaking them almost violently, making a mocking out of being scared.

Randy did nothing, he just remained standing there, piercing him with his eyes. After a half a minute of returning the stare, Punk waved him off and rolled his eyes.

Now… in the back of his mind, Punk knew it was getting late and he wanted to get back to the house. He wanted to see the faces of their hosts when he would confess that a demon-like bird stole the baby.

They would definitely write that down and put it in their file under not responsible enough.

Snorting to himself, the Chicago Native wiped the sweat off his brow and took a deep breath. "So; what the fuck do we do now?"

Randy, sweating himself but definitely looking ten times better than he was looking, placed both hands on his hips and shrugged. "The fuck if I know."

Walking forward so they could keep moving, Punk wrinkled his nose, thinking. "I bet we will probably get lost forever here and then this program and the WWE will get the shittiest press ever and they would have no choice than to shut down. I wonder if they'll give our families a compensation check or if they'll even make a tribute show dedicated to our careers."

Randy hummed, going back to walking and slapping leaves.

"I'll tell you what I really hate; I never got to decide what I want engraved in my tombstone. I didn't want someone else decide the words but now that it's happening, I hope Colt does it. It won't be some sentimental crap and…"

"Jesus Christ, Punk, would you just shut up?"

"Why, no!" He blurted out. He hated when people interrupted his thoughts and Randy just did that. "You can't make shut…"

Before he could finish that thought out loud, Randy swirled around and before Punk could do anything other than gasp, he was grabbing him by the shirt and making him back off.

That was it, he momentarily saw in his mind an image of himself walking around without teeth. He didn't like what he saw but at least his toothless grin would deviate everyone's looks from the bags under his eyes.

But Randy didn't punch him, instead of doing that he pushed him back until he collided against a tree and then he was kissing him, again.

He didn't force it though, he just pressed his mouth to his while holding him in place until Punk relaxed against him and tilted his head to the side.

Probably taking that as his green light, Randy caught between his teeth the small metallic object that was Punk's lip ring and sucked it into his mouth.

Punk reciprocated by pushing his tongue forward and Orton meet him halfway; then, in a matter of nothing they were kissing hard and deep.

Breathing from each other's breaths and dueling with their tongues, the two men gave into the moment; Randy pushing hard against the Chicago native and Punk lifting both hands to place them over the Viper's hips.

It went on for a while, but when the two of them needed to breathe, Randy pulled away. He remained close though, so close that Punk was still trapped between his body and the tree. "Is that enough to make you shut up?" The younger man breathed out and Punk opened his eyes to look right into his intense eyes.

For a moment he said nothing and his hands slid to his waist. Then he shook his head no and he smirked. "No… I don't think it was…"

When he said that, Orton smirked as well and just when Punk leaned closer to kiss him, they heard someone calling for them.

"Brooks, Orton! Are you there?"

At the sound of whom suspiciously sounded like their host Peter, Randy drew away and the two wrestlers looked around.

There was no one to be seen but the voice came again. "Brooks, Orton… if you are there answer."

Licking his lips and running his finger through his hair, Punk watched Orton walk away, following the voice. For a moment he just stood there…

But then Orton turned around and through half closed eyelids, he looked at him. "Aren't you coming?"

Clearing his throat and feeling a bit confused, Punk nodded and stepped forward. "Sure, it's lunch time and I don't want to miss that…"

With that said, the two of them walked back to the lake, in silence… each one thinking about that last kiss and the fact that they still had to go back to the house to play partners…

**TBC**

Okay, I just want to point out that I don't have anything against the way Punk looks, quite the contrary… he's yummy lol. Anyway, this story is totally random and that's exactly why Punk acts that way


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** So I promised that I was going to finish this story among others and I'll work on that. Now, my muses are trying to leave me and I had to force this one out. I didn't re-read it in fear that I wasn't going to like the final product and I didn't think too much on it while writing so please, bear with me, I'm just trying to rush things out a bit ;)

**RiVaLs**

"Are you aware that you were the only two teams that didn't complete today's challenge?" Mandy, the woman that served the wrestlers as host of the group therapy Vince McMahon forced them to go said in a severe tone of voice that echoed all through the saloon they were currently in.

After her reproach was said, no one uttered a word in response and pursing her lips, the wisp of a woman looked at each man, one by one until she got the four of them.

It was funny in a weird kind of way; at least it was to CM Punk. To him it felt as if he was back in kindergarten and the teacher was lecturing them all for not knowing how to play in harmony. All that was left for her to do was stand each one of them in a corner of the room until they reflected long and deep about what they failed to do.

And seriously, as things were going, Punk was kind of expecting her to say something like that, after all the whole thing has turned into something excruciatingly ridiculous and nothing would surprise him anymore.

"Do any of you have something to say?" She asked, folding her arms to her chest.

Once again, no one said anything and leering to the side, Punk caught a glimpse of Randy sitting by his side with his arms folded to his chest and his gaze lost into the distance.

He has been sitting like that for a while now and Punk doubted that he was paying attention to what Mandy was saying. What he seemed was lost in thought and perhaps a little annoyed.

For several seconds all he did was look at his team partner, his olive green eyes drinking on the sight of him and his memory getting caught in the events of that afternoon.

How come that they ended up kissing… twice? Was the world coming to an end? Was Randy getting crazy?

Because sure, he couldn't deny that Randy was more than appealing to his eyes and all that, but from occasionally thinking that the mother fucker looked ridiculously good to make out with him was a bit too much.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to be in kissing terms with him. Yes, the kisses were more than good but this was Randy Orton and he didn't like Randy Orton. And that was without mentioning that Randy didn't like him. They were like water and oil, they repelled each other, they couldn't co-exist together…

Or could they?

Thinking about that and on the clandestine smile Orton flashed his way when they were walking into the bus that was going to take them back to the house, Punk saw as Orton tilted his head to the side and locked eyes with him.

Neither of them said anything nor did they looked away, they just sat there, staring into each other's eyes until the Chicago native couldn't keep a straight face.

Snorting and shaking his head, Punk felt like he needed to say or do something so pushing the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue, he coughed and then cleared his throat. "I want to say something."

Mandy looked at him and he reluctantly moved his eyes from Orton to look at the woman. But even though he could feel the weight of Randy's eyes on him and he wondered what was he thinking.

"You know, we just spend the last few hours of our lives trying to get out of a maze, getting lost in the forest and all that shi… stuff, so can we just go and eat something? I don't know about these guys but I'm starving."

And that was the truth; it was close to being nightfall and after a late breakfast before starting the challenge, they hadn't get anything to eat.

"I second that, I mean the rest of the boys are eating as we speak, aren't they?" John said in his always good nature.

"Yes they are, but they completed the challenged and you didn't."

"Really? So this is how it is, you are going to deny us food for not completing your stupid challenge?" Mike spoke for the first time since Pete 'rescued' him and Cena and got them back to the house. "I wonder what my lawyers will say about you wanting to starve us as punishment? They surely will close this program and accuse you for crimes against humanity!"

"You have to be kidding me. Just shut up, okay?"

"Don't tell me to shut up, Cena! You are no one to tell me what to do!" Mike yelled while getting up to his feet; he looked like a madman, eyes bulging, face flushed a deep red and his usually styled hair all messed up.

Watching the younger man, Punk laughed and covered his mouth with his fingertips.

When Pete was driving all four of them back to the house, he pointed out that while all the teams make it back safely, his team and Cena and Mike never showed up. They waited and waited and nothing.

As time passed, everyone started to get worried and because the dolls had some sort of GPS, they checked in their computers to see their whereabouts. His and Randy's was at the bottom of the lake, dead; while Mike's and John's never made it out of the maze. It was also dead.

Now, Punk knew what happened to his doll but he wondered what distracted Mike and John so that they forgot their doll back in the maze; especially when they were found in the forest too.

Whatever it was, it was probably the reason why Miz looking so… so…

"Calm down Mizanin, we are not denying you food, but before you are allowed to go back to the others, we need to address a few issues with all of you; issues that will get in your way if we don't talk about it. But first, I want to say today's challenge was an easy one, all you had to do was keep your baby alive and well, get out of the maze, get into a boat and make it back to us. You failed in everything…"

"No we didn't, we got out of the maze and I feel like I need to point out that we did it in record time. It was not our fault that a gigantic, evil bird attacked us and took off with the baby." Punk said, shrugging and definitely exaggerating things a little bit.

Mandy looked at him incredulous and he elbowed Randy.

"She doesn't believe me, tell her it's true."

"It's true." Randy said in a raspy tone while shifting in his chair.

Moving his head to the side and focusing his eyes back to Randy, Punk bit on his lips and smiled. He had no reason to do that, but it was just that even though Randy wasn't looking at him, he was also smiling.

It was faint, but it was definitely a smile.

"Getting out of the maze was the easy part, the hard part was working as a team to make it through until the end and you obviously failed to do that. Now, like you already know, this is a group therapy and what we will do here is get to the root of your problems. John, we are going to start with you, why do you think Mike is so upset that he has to team with you?"

Shrugging and smiling his infamous dimple smile, John lifted a hand to his temples and ran the tip of his fingers right below his hairline. "I don't know, I guess he doesn't like me."

"You are damn right I don't; so you better keep that in mind next time." Mike hissed, his face showing an angry pout while he looked away.

Snorting and pushing his back against the chair, John snorted and shook his head. "You are such a drama queen."

"You know, I think this will get interesting." Randy mumbled and moved a little to the side, enough so that his shoulder was touching Punk's. "Just watch and see."

"Does it bothers you when he talks like that to you?" Mandy asked to John and the older man of the group chuckled.

"It doesn't bother me; well… it's annoying but it's okay because I know he's like a little kid in denial. But I know that…"

"I'm not gay, okay!" Mike yelled and from his vantage point, Punk saw Mandy do a double take.

Randy laughed, Punk was fascinated with the whole thing and grinning, he got a little near Randy.

"No one here said that, Mike. Why…"

Interrupting here, Miz got back to his feet and bringing a hand to his face, he turned to John. "I'm not gay, I have a hot girlfriend waiting for me and I don't need to be here wasting my time in this stupid program with you. I'm out of here."

With that said, Mike turned around and started to make his way out of the room. Mandy said something to stop him, but he was deaf to her words, he only stopped when John spoke.

"You weren't thinking on your hot girlfriend earlier today."

"Ohhhh, that's strong man, aren't you going to tell him something?" Punk said, wanting to rile Mike up a bit and see what would happen.

"You are evil," Randy said while Mike turned around to face a smiling John Cena.

"Me?" He asked back, moving his head towards Randy and finding that they were way to close.

If he wanted to, he could lean forward and kiss him.

But he didn't, first because he has never been much into public displays and two, he wanted to check out the Miz-John drama.

"Besides, we all know that while your so called straight ass was too busy man-crushing over Jericho, your oh so hot girlfriend was screwing around with Dibiase."

Jerking his head forward and laughing out loud, Punk almost jumped out of his chair… but Randy stopped him, circling his hand around his arm and keeping him in place.

Punk noticed, but the part of him that liked a good conflict more than anything else just ran a hand through his rebel hair and spoke. "Are you going to let him talk like that about your girlfriend? I would kick his ass on the spot."

"Fifteen points off from your team Brooks, we don't need your input here."

"You are lying." Mike said flatly.

"I'm not; ask Orton, he's friends with Dibiase so he knows."

"No, no, no… don't get me in this mess just because you want his ass, John." Randy said, the amusement in him disappearing and his lips forming a hard line on his face.

"Is that true, is Dibiase screwing my girlfriend?" Mike asked, turning to Randy now.

"Of course he is, everyone knows it and you probably know it too. Hell, I bet you just turned a blind eye because she's great to keep appearances, isn't she?" John yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Shut up." Mike hissed.

"Well I didn't know about those two." Punk said, "But you know what? This is a good group therapy, I feel better and I learnt a few things; I need to complete the challenges, team work is very important and I even caught up with a few gossips. Can we go eat now?"

"You know, everyone but Mizanin get out of here now, you are only making things worse. I'm going to work alone with him now."

"I don't need to keep appearances because I'm not gay! I didn't want to kiss you, you forced yourself on me the first time and today you did the same. You are a fucking pervert and I'm going to sue you!"

With that said, Mike ran out of the room and for a moment everybody remained unmoving. Mandy was the first to react and after the initial shock died down, she walked after Mike, calling his name.

"Very suave, John, you sure know how to charm them." Randy said as he started to get up to his feet.

At his words, John grumbled and jumped to his feet. He looked pissed off which was rare on him. "Shut up, at least I did something, unlike you. By the way Punk, Randy has a crush on you."

Chuckling and staring after the older man, Randy ran his hand down his jaw and John walked out the door.

On his part, Punk arched an eyebrow and looked at the so called Viper a bit amused. Him, a crush on him? Nah…

But he has kissed him, and not only once but twice.

"Okay… seems like this is the day of revelations. It's kind of awkward, I won't lie, but it reminds me of a night when I was in Ring of Honor and Colt and I were-" He started to ramble to break the silence, but just when he was going to keep on, the familiar voice of Matt was heard and at his words, both men looked at the door.

"Fight! Mike walked into the dining room and started to beat Ted up!" And with that said, the smaller and the winner of that day's challenged ran back the same way he came.

"Shit, why do I feel like I need to go and make a safe for Ted?" Randy said and without looking back, he walked out.

What followed next happened quickly, Punk, a bit confused walked out of the salon and headed straight to the dining hall. Like he has been expecting, Mike was indeed brawling with Ted and it took several of the guys to break them up.

Surprisingly, the one that took Mike away was John and once he was gone, Ted disappeared with both Randy and Cody.

Pete and Mandy were distressed and a bit lost, but because the commotion dwindled down, Punk just sat down, ignored everybody and ate. For a while he had both Matts chatting nonstop by his side but not really feeling in the mood for them, he finished his food and went to his room.

Like he has been expecting, the room still had one bed but at least Randy wasn't on it. Taking advantage of the solitude, he took a long shower, shaved and once dressed up he got into the bed all sprawled out and closed his eyes.

He had a lot of things on his mind; what happened between him and Randy that day, what John said and of course, a dilemma in his mind that wasn't letting him sleep.

Not that he has been expecting to sleep, but lying down with no one interrupting him was good for thinking and that's the only thing that he needed, to think.

What was happening between him and Orton?

Not that it mattered much, after the program was done he would only have one week left on his contract and he wasn't planning on renewing it. Meaning, that it didn't matter.

A kiss, two kiss, a crush… those were stupid things and he didn't care for stupid things.

Getting more relaxed as time passed by, the door to the room got opened and then close and opening one eye to take a peek, he saw Orton walking in and heading straight towards the bathroom.

He didn't close the door and closing his eyes once again, Punk heard when he started the shower. The younger of the two took his time there and when he walked out, all Punk could perceive was the clean scent that clung to him while he moved around to turn off the lights.

It was stupid, he also showered with that soap and that same shampoo and he didn't smell like that. It was another thing that wasn't fair, not only did Randy looked heavenly no matter the conditions he was in, he also smelled like a sin waiting to be taken on.

"Move over." Randy said, his voice coming off with that annoying monotone voice he had when speaking. It was as if everything bored him to death…

Without speaking, Punk moved to the side and when Randy squeezed between his body and the wall, he snickered.

"So you have a crush on me, uh? Not that I blame you, I mean look at me, I have undeniable charm and I always find it hard to keep the multitudes away. I have to fight both men and women with a stick to keep them from assaulting me with their…"

"Shut up,"

"Don't be bitter because you saw yourself reflected in what I just said. It's okay, I'm used to draw people to me, I'm like a magnetic force…"

"Jesus Christ!" Randy complained out loud and with a laugh, he grabbed Punk by the arm and made him lay flat on his back.

"I swear you get on my nerves like no one else."

Licking his lips and feeling Randy hovering over him, Punk snorted. "So I get in your nerves and not in your pants, that's why you are so bitter?"

"I'm not bitter, if I wanted you to get in my pants, I would have you in my pants right now." Randy whispered in the lowest of tones and feeling his breath caressing his face softly, Punk closed his eyes.

With his lips curving into a sly smile, Punk placed his left foot over the mattress and his hand moved until it was touching lightly Randy's hip. "You wish, too bad for you I'm not that easy."

"Yeah, too bad." Randy said and moved a bit away, resting on his side but leaving his hand brushing against Punk's arm.

Blinking his eyes open, the Chicago native turned to his side as well, his back to Randy and facing towards the door.

In that position, he could feel the entire length of Randy pressing against him and he knew right in that moment, that he was going to have the longest night ever…


	11. Chapter 11

For CM Punk, the ability of getting a full night sleep was nothing but a glorified myth he never got to believe. It was like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, real when he was young, a fallacy when he grew up.

It was like this, for a very long time he has been cursed with a bad case Insomnia and as much as he wanted to cheat on her with Morpheus, he never got around to actually do it.

Yeah he would go to the bed every night and close his eyes like any human being living on Earth did, but if he was able to achieve a few quick sets of cat naps while he lay in bed, he would consider himself lucky.

So, it was true that he dozed off and sometimes he even blacked out… but before he could get the hang of it, he would wake up in the middle of the night feeling restless and with a curse on his lips.

That was what happened to him in that precise moment, he has been testing the murky waters of sleep… his mind drifting off to that sweet promise land until he felt it…

Not that it would be hard for him to feel something like that; after all asleep or awake, the movement Randy Orton pulled on him was meant to be felt.

Grunting and blindly searching for something to grab with his hands, the Straight Edge Superstar found only empty air and when he opened his eyes to look around he was already on the floor, his head hitting with a thud that hard place that was meant for his feet.

"What the fuck man?" He growled, laying flat on his back and feeling all the bones of his body screaming in protest.

"I warned you, you didn't listen to me."

At the sound of Randy's husky tone and the silent amusement that it carried, Punk snarled his lips and getting up to his feet he grabbed the edge of the mattress with both hands. It was dark and he could barely distinguish the things that surrounded him, but once he got a good grip on the mattress, he used all the strength a man in the condition of being half awake could muster and then he pulled hard at it.

The twin size mattress cooperated with him and even in the darkness that reigned over the room, he saw the silhouette of Orton sliding to the floor along with it.

"What the… what was that for?" Randy complained and in his still fussy mind, Punk tried to understand what was really going on.

He didn't have much luck, he just remembered that he went to bed, dozed off, woke up by the sound of Randy saying something and after mumbling an incoherence in response, he closed his eyes and tried to get at least one hour of sleep.

After that the next thing he could remember was falling to the floor on his back, courtesy of Randy pushing him off the bed.

"That's retaliation, you push me off the bed, I fucking put you out of bed too." Punk said through clenched teeth as he used his foot to kick Randy away.

It didn't work, the younger man just grabbed his foot and yanked at it, making Punk lose his balance and thus fall into the mattress that was now laying on the floor.

"You try to kick me once again and I'll rip your leg off."

The tone has been kind of menacing, but accommodating himself and blowing out a breath, the Chicago Native ignored what the other man just said, grabbed a pillow and covered his head with it.

"Fuck you, Orton."

He wasn't in the mood of arguing, he probably had a few cat naps on him left and now that he had the opportunity of catching up with a bit of sleep, he wasn't going to let Randy ruin it for him.

In the morning they could fight; Randy could bitch and throw his empty menaces and whatever he felt like it; but in that moment, all Punk cared about was to be left alone. "Tomorrow I'll find other ways to piss you off and then I'll give you a chance to rip my leg and my arms off… but just as long as you let me sleep right now."

"Oh so the princess wants to sleep, how cute. I don't know, maybe I would be more receptive to your request if you would grant the same to me."

"Uh?" He mumbled, opening his eyes and finding that his eyes were more adjusted to the darkness now. "Speak plain English because I'm not getting you."

Breathing in loudly, Randy shifted and then talked. "Sleep, you are not letting me sleep. You move too damn much."

"Oh… well I'm not moving now." Punk said while opening his eye, but now he doubted that sleep would come easy to him.

He had his chance and Randy blew it.

It was always like that, the minimal sound would always take him at an amazing speed out of that tranquil state of sleep and he honestly couldn't remember the last time he slept all through the night without any kind of interruption. It felt as if he has never done that and as things were going, he knew he wasn't going to get that wish granted while stuck in that stupid program.

Getting bitter about it, Punk turned from his position and lay flat on his back. He knew that he was taking too much space in such a restricted place and making sure to throw his hand over Randy's face, he smirked.

"Oh I'm sorry, was that your face? I must have moved while I dozed off."

At that, Randy pushed his hand away and grunted; on his part Punk felt an odd sense of satisfaction because whatever his reason, Randy pushed him off the bed and woke him up, and now that he couldn't go back to sleep it was only fair that he returned the favor.

To his surprise, his partner didn't complain and remained in place, laying on his side and keeping his silence.

For a while Punk stood still as well, listening to Randy breathing peacefully against his shoulder. That was how close they were and for a reason that he couldn't grasp, the current champion tilted his head to the left to take a look at him.

The younger man was laying by his side with his eyes closed and even in the darkness he could see the outline of his features; his lips were slightly pouted in that way of his that made him look petulant, his cheeks were covered with a light stubble and if he squinted his eyes he could even see his eyelashes almost touching his cheekbones.

It was ridiculous and to a certain point unfair, but Randy Orton looked like a dream come true even while doing the most mundane of acts, sleep.

Thing that made him think of course of those kisses they shared at the woods. Those had been some nice smooches and why not admit it? He wouldn't really mind getting a few mores…

This was Randy Orton after all, and jerk or not, who wouldn't like being at the receiving end of his attention?

Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the Straight Edge Superstar shook his head and closed his eyes; thinking about Randy Orton in the middle of the night while said man was pressed to him in a twin size bed was not a great way to achieve sleep; quite the contrary, thinking about those things made him feel the other man even more close than he actually was and that way he would never get to sleep.

Grunting, Punk elbowed his partner hard on the chest to wake him up and then he tried to put some distance between them. "You are touching me, I don't like when people touch me while I sleep."

Inhaling deeply, Randy cleared his throat and Punk felt him shifting around. Not that it helped, the space was too reduced and no matter how much they tried to, they couldn't evade touching each other.

"Your feet are still touching mine." He said in a sing-alike tone while pushing Randy's feet away from his. But like he said, not that it mattered, the entire length of Orton's body was still brushing against him and even if he succeeded in the feet department, there was no way in making all of him stop touching him.

"If you wouldn't have lost the damn doll we would be sleeping in different beds right now, so if anyone should be complaining here it's me. Besides you are laying on your back and thus you are taking too much space."

"Yeah yeah, blame it all on me…"

"You could also take the floor, no one would touch you there."

"You wish Randal," Punk said turning to his side, but instead of turning around so that his back would face Orton, he turned in a way that they were now face to face.

Blinking his eyes open, Punk found himself staring into the deep eyes of his partner and for some unknown reason, Randy arched an eyebrow.

On his part, Punk tilted his head up and closed his eyes once again.

Oh… but he didn't think he would go to sleep anytime soon, not at all. Even with his eyes closed he could feel the intensity of Randy's eyes looking at him and well, since their bodies were still touching even if it was slightly, he could feel the heat of his body emanating in huge waves towards him.

It was almost too much, their knees were bumping together, their feet found each other once again under the blankets and if he concentrated hard enough, he was sure that he could feel the other man breathing against his face.

By then he was more awake than ever and he could swear that the tension was so thick that could feel himself choking with it… he was even considering taking the floor like Orton suggested and wait until the first rays of light hit his face and enlightened his mind.

But then, before he could even move, Randy extended a hand and placed it over his hip. It just lay there, half his fingers resting against his sweat pants and the others touching his bare skin because his shirt has ridden a little high up his stomach.

Punk didn't react to that chaste touch but for a few seconds he held his breath. But it was nothing, Randy's fingers were not even moving or twitching against him and realistically speaking, he has touched him more intimately than that.

After all they had been in the ring in many occasions and a hand on his hip was nothing compared to the touches shared in a ring…

Ah, but it wasn't the same. In the ring Punk was in his element, it was a dance he was used to dance and no move he would make or feel inside the square circle could compare to those of being in the confinements of a bed with a Randy Orton that was only in his boxers…

Opening his eyes to find that Randy had his closed, Punk cleared his throat and pursed his lips. "Randy, you are touching me…"

At those words, Randy blinked his eyes open to stare deeply into the olive green depths of Punk's eyes. For a while the two of them remained like that, staring at each other in the darkness of their room.

It was ridiculous, and as a way to break the spell they were both submerged into, Punk said the first thing that came into his mind.

"Did you know that if you throw a boomerang that never comes back, it is because it was no boomerang at all but a stick? It would probably be a stick with a curve or something… I'm not sure, but you know… no boomerang…"

Snorting and knitting his brows, Randy's lips curved slightly into a smile. "What?"

Punk looked at him and acting on an impulse, he got a bit nearer to him. "Nothing…" And then, without any more preambles, he pressed his lips against Randy and kissed him.

The response was immediate, Randy tilted his head to the other side, he pulled Punk a little closer to him and then he added more pressure into the kiss.

Now, if asked later, Punk wouldn't know what to answer if someone came to him asking him the reason why he kissed Orton; he would just say that he was near, that it was the middle of the damn night and why the fuck no? he just wanted to kiss him.

And apparently, Orton has been wanting to kiss him too because as soon as their lips meet he tugged at the Chicago Natives lips with his teeth and then he ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

Getting lost in sensation, Punk made his own tongue dart forward until it found Randy's and while laying in a mattress that was in the floor, they started to kiss long, deep and as time started to pass, eagerly.

Now… Punk couldn't lie about it, he was enjoying the moment more than he should and he even went as far as to roll over to trap Orton underneath him. The younger man complied without protest, dragging the hand that has been curving around Punk's hip bone up along his ribcage.

With their tongues dueling and their breaths mingling, the two WWE wrestlers and supposed to be rivals melted against each other, kissing as if there was no tomorrow and no regrets… as if giving into each other was the most natural thing in the world.

And to Punk it felt like it was natural; he kissed with abandon, he allowed the other man to kiss him however he wanted to and when Randy rolled him over to his back so he could be the one on top, he just groaned against his mouth and moved his hands to his partner's slender waist.

Once his hands were there he let them run smoothly up his spine, and when Randy pushed his hips against the Chicago native so that he could feel his erection poking against his stomach through the thin fabric of his boxer, he knew he was lost.

After all he was only human, his flesh was weak and he was bound to succumb.

Engaged in the moment, Punk felt Randy end the kiss so he could descend his lips down his jaw and towards his neck, tracing a warm path with his tongue that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Are you aware that if I contact Miz's lawyers I could file a lawsuit against you. Sexual assault I would call it." Punk said absent mindedly, a smirk forming on his lips as he felt Randy biting lightly on that sweet spot in his throat were his pulse was beating.

At his words Randy hummed. "Really? Then I wonder what would they say when I tell them that you were the one kissing me first."

Moving his hands to the nape of the younger man's neck, Punk grabbed his head and made him face him. "I'll deny it, you can't prove shit." With that said, he pulled Orton's face towards his and kissed him again.

Without letting go of the kiss, Randy slid against Punk's body until his erection was nestled with that of the other man's, and even though the two of them were closed, Punk couldn't help but to feel himself growing even more harder…

Lowering his hands to the other man's ass, Punk pushed him even more closer… hell, he even went as far as sneaking his restless fingers into Randy's boxers so he could touch his skin freely.

Moaning against his lips, Randy grinded his hips even harder against the man underneath him, creating a friction that made Punk feel out of his mind. He was as hard as he was going to get and he wanted to feel more… he almost needed it…

But then, as things started to escalate in intensity, the door of their room began to open and out of instinct, Punk pushed Randy off of him so hard that he even fell off the mattress.

"What the fuck, Punk?" Randy mumbled, probably unaware of the reason why Punk pushed him away like that.

But he didn't need to ask, because a second after Punk so rudely pushed him, the voice of Mandy filled the room like a drill digging into a brain. "Wake up and shine, it's a new day and a new challenge. Be ready in ten minutes and don't forget to bring your sneakers."

With that said, the host closed the door without even taking a peek inside and left.

"Fuck this shit… that door needs a lock." Punk said while taking a look at Randy. The other man was laying on his stomach, lips pursed and tongue pushing hard against his cheek.

To Punk he didn't look happy, in fact he looked kind of pissed off. Not that he blamed him, with the sudden interruption his cock went almost immediately back to its limp state and he was going to get ahead and anticipate that he would be suffering a mild case of blue balls.

But realistically speaking, the interruption was almost a blessing. He didn't need to get into that shit with Orton, oh hell no!

But then again, he was about to leave wrestling for good in a couple of weeks and thus Randy would become a phantom in the past. So… who said that he couldn't indulge in the promise of those kisses and those touches even if it was just once?

Licking his lips and taking in a deep breath, Punk snorted at the way his thoughts were going.

"What's so damn funny?" Randy asked without moving from his spot. His tone had a hint of annoyance and that made Punk snorted once again.

"Nothing is funny, come on." With that said, he got to his feet and then he offered a hand to help Randy up.

Randy accepted the help, and when he was standing in front of him, Punk noticed that he was still sporting quite a bulge inside his boxers.

It wasn't exactly as he has felt it, but by what he could see Randy's mood wasn't entirely gone. He was just half erect.

Biting on his lips and arching an eyebrow, Punk sighed. "Alright… um, I think we should get ready."

Randy looked at him darkly and then he shook his head. "Yeah, you go ahead, I'll be in a minute."

Nodding and smiling, Punk looked down to Randy's discomfort and then he chuckled. "What, don't tell me that you are going to jerk off. We have ten minutes… well, maybe seven."

"I'm not going to fucking jerk off, you ass. You know, forget it…" He said, grabbing for his pants and a shirt to put it on. Then he went into the bathroom and without closing the door, he started to brush his teeth.

Punk watched him with a smirk gracing his face, waiting for him to finish so he could go and wash his face and teeth too. But as he waited, he couldn't help but to bit his lip ring into his mouth while thinking that he was up to a very interesting day…

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Forgive me readers, it has been a while since my last update… *hides in shame* But I'm back! Yup, I'm rusty with these two and I had to force this one out of my head but hopefully it will get me in the mood to keep updating it more often. It's not much, but I hope you still get to like it.

XxXxXxXxX

"Seventy-three, seventy-four… seventy-five." Once his count ended and allowing his back to fall hard against the soft grass of the field where he has been doing his sit-ups, CM Punk groaned out loud as a light burning sensation started to settle in the muscles of his stomach.

Actually… it was more than a light burning; it felt as if his whole midsection was on fire and as he lay flat on his back, he mumbled under his breath a mild obscenity.

It was always like that for him; he would wear his body beyond its limits and at the end, he would lay exhausted; thinking about how was it possible that even with a thousand sit-ups in a row, his abs wouldn't cut.

Not that he has done a thousand of those, mind you, but he always made sure to at least include a minimum of a hundred in his work-out routines and ridiculous as it was, there were no muscles that defined his midsection yet.

Not that it bothered him too much, but he always wondered…

But anyway; that morning, a short warm up and those sit-ups were the only work out he has done. There was no gym to go to so he decided to at least do something to get his motors running.

He would have run a couple of miles, but Pete and Mandy told them that they couldn't separate from their respective partners for long periods of time before their next challenge and in his mind, it would be awkward to ask Randy to run with him.

He still wasn't sure where they stood when it came to each other, but after that morning's little bonding, he was finding things to be a little tense between them.

Their walk out of the house has been awkwardly silent, and not only on their part because everywhere he looked, everyone seemed to be in a gloomy mood.

First one was Ted, he was walking with a shiner in his face and he seemed pissed as hell, then it was Mike who seemed to still be brooding in his rotten mood and John wasn't been his regular cheerful person. Then there was Randy's pursed lips and distant demeanor and to finish things off, his own silence and long face.

The heavy atmosphere in the air lasted until they were shown to breakfast, same place where the two hostess of the program gave them a long tedious speech about the importance of team work and getting along with everybody.

It has been a boring talk and the only thing Punk remembered was that he ate in silence and once that was done, he pushed his back to the chair and blinked… his eyes closing just for the briefest of moments…

Or at least that was what he thought; but apparently he blinked too slowly and for too long because next thing he knew was that Randy elbowed him while mumbling something about him falling asleep.

Thankfully that part of the day passed already and now they were in a huge field that led to the woods as they waited on the instructions to start next challenge.

Puffing out a breath and wiping with the back of his hand the tiny beads of transpiration that were breaking out of his forehead, the Straight Edge Superstar saw out of the corner of his eye that Randy was making his way back to him.

He just saw him briefly, but that was enough to make him lift his back off the ground to continue with his sit-ups.

"One hundred and five, one hundred and six…"

"Here, take this." The younger man said as he threw over Punk's side a bottle of water.

Taking another break and deciding that he was done with his mild work-out, Punk sat down Indian Style and opened the lid to drink form the precious liquid.

"Evan swears they will make us go into some kind of race." Randy said, sitting down as well and drinking from his own bottle.

"Really?" Punk said, his gaze settled on Randy and on the way the other man's eyes moved so he could meet his. "Then we will get into a race, that man has a way of knowing everything."

At his words, Randy clicked his tongue to his cheek and snickered. "No one knows everything."

"I do, at least if this everything we are talking about has nothing to do with this place and the stupid challenges they want to make us do. Evan has me beat up when it comes to this, but that's only because he's sneaky and he gets to spy on everyone. But on everything else, there's no one that knows more than me. I'm a fountain of infinite knowledge."

Tilting his head to the side and keeping his eyes on his partner, Randy furrowed his brows. He didn't say anything though, but there was the phantom of a smile twisting his lips and Punk had no choice than to arch an eyebrow and reciprocate the stare.

"What?" He asked, his voice holding an unmistakable hint of amusement.

Shrugging, Randy breathed out. "Nothing, I was just wondering if there was a time when you didn't talk so much bullshit."

"Ohhh should I feel offended with that, Randal? Because somehow I'm not."

"I know you are not," Randy said absent mindedly, turning his head to the side so he could take a look around.

Punk kept watching him even though Randy was looking somewhere else. There was just something about that man that seemed to be calling to him; maybe it was the way the sun shun in his eyes and made them looked lighter that they usually were or maybe it was just that looking at those lips made him remember the way felt pressed to his…

Ah, but those lips were not the only things attached to his body that he has felt pressed to him and of course, he has liked the rest as he had liked those kisses.

"If this is a race, we could easily win it." Randy said, turning back to him. "Are you a fast runner?"

"The fastest." He said, not really knowing if that was true; but he probably was, he was good with cardio and well, it was no secret that rest of the guys relied mainly on weights and shit like that to do their work out.

His only worry would be Evan, Bryan, Ted and Randy, but since the last one was his partner, the first one was paired with the man popularly known as Jack Swagger and the second and the third were doomed with Ted being mentally distracted, he was pretty sure that he could beat them all by miles.

"What is the price this time?" He asked, trying to form a light conversation.

"I have no idea, but anything is good."

Nodding and taking another sip of his water, Punk shrugged. "I wouldn't mind another bed but that would be asking too much. Hmm, maybe we can steal one…"

"Actually, I second you in that one. If we don't win one today I'll consider stealing it, you are a messy sleeping partner."

Licking his bottom lip, Punk smirked, arching an eyebrow and meeting the bluish greys that were Randy's eyes. "I didn't hear you complaining this morning."

"And that was because you were passed out and kicking at me underneath the blankets. That's why I had to push you out."

"I don't recall that; however, I do remember the way you took advantage of me while I wasn't in my right mind. I think I'm going to complain about that with Mandy."

"Oh, I took advantage of you?" Randy asked with an amused snort, this time arching his eyebrows and leaning a bit closer to Punk.

On his part, Punk nodded and with his eyes shining into Randy's, he shrugged. He knew he has been the one kissing Randy first and he was sure that Randy was aware of that too… "Yup, I have it all in my mind; I can even have mental scars after that. Now I'll have to go to therapy with Mike…"

Lowering his eyes and smiling what Punk thought was a sly smile, Orton opened his mouth. But before he could say whatever he wanted to say, Peter, the other host walked to them with a rope.

"Gentlemen, we are about to start your second challenge. If you would be so kind to get on your feet."

"Now?" Punk groaned, he wanted to know what Randy was going to say. But apparently Pete didn't mind that he just interrupted a potential good conversation and he just held the rope in front of them. "What, are you going to hang us?"

"Your humor is not appealing, Mr. Brooks."

"You don't know what humor is."

"Don't mind him, he gets like this in the mornings, afternoons and yeah, in the nights too." Randy said, getting to his feet.

Punk followed, watching as Peter stared at him with something close to a bored expression. Gone was his fake cheerfulness and he was glad, he hated phonies.

"Your challenge will consist of an obstacle course-"

"Rad." Punk said before Peter could finish. That was just like a race, but with obstacles…

"But because we are trying to foment team work, each team will go through with it tied up, foot with foot."

"Okay…" He said, but inside Punk's mind was running… tied up… that was going to make things a bit harder.

"So, get closer so I can tie you."

"Wouldn't it be better to tie us at the starting point?" Randy asked, but Pete was already bending down and signaling them to get closer.

"Not really, team work is not an exclusive part of the challenge, it's part of the whole program so as a team, you'll walk together to the starting point and when we tell you to start, you will continue using team work through the challenge.

With that said and with Punk and Randy getting so close that their hips were pressed together, Peter tied them and moved on with the next team.

"I don't know if I like this, you know?" Punk said, trying to find a way to walk without tripping.

And not only that, his left arm was uncomfortably glued to Randy's right arm so as a way to get it out of the way, he threw it back and around the Viper's lower back.

"Well you could have tricked me, getting your hands on me and all that." Randy mumbled as his own arm came to rest in the same manner, against Punk's lower back."

"Pot meet kettle." The Chicago native said as a smile appeared on his face.

Were they flirting? He wasn't sure, but Randy was sure getting comfortable with him and as of yet, they hadn't argued even once that day.

Sure, there was that little exchange a few minutes ago but that wasn't an argument… it was almost as more flirting…

"Anyway, why don't we go to the starting point to get the hang of this?" He said and to prove waters with Randy and trying to make it seem casual, Punk moved his hand a bit up, just enough so he could sneak it underneath the other man's shirt.

"Alright, let's do this." Randy said as Punk's fingers brushed lightly against the smooth skin above the hem of his pants.

It was a brief touch, but only because they took the first step all wrong and ended up falling to the ground, all tangled and in a heap.

"Fuck, Punk! You were supposed to move the left leg and then the right."

"And did you inform me about that?" Punk hissed, trying to get up but finding it difficult.

Randy's legs were both pinning him down and until the younger man wouldn't manage to stand up, then he was going to remain there.

"No, I thought it was obvious so I didn't, Phil." Randy snapped back and Punk laughed. There was the Randy he knew, the one he liked to mess with…

"Oh alright, so um… are you sure you didn't do this on purpose, just to get your hands on me?"

Looking down at him and licking his pointy eye teeth, Randy shook his head. "I don't have to make up excuses to get my hands on you."

Now, the tone Randy used to say that has been nothing more than a dark whisper that held so many promises; it brushed Punk's face as a caress and it made him feel a liquid warm sensation settle in his lower stomach and he smirked.

"Really? That kind of makes me want to lose this challenge and the opportunity of another bed just to see if that's right."

As his response, Randy scanned Phil's face blatantly, a smile forming on own his lips as he continued to run his tongue over his teeth.

"Do you need help there?" Came the voice of a man they both knew too well and before either of them could say yes or no, John was pulling them to their feet. "Can you believe they are making us do this? I managed to escape for now but it won't be long until I get strapped to Mike."

With that said, the man walked away and left Randy and Punk standing side by side.

"You know, this is getting awkward." Punk said out loud.

"I know…" Randy replied, saying nothing more.

But that wasn't it, because he was sure that when night came, things were going to get even weirder between them… and he couldn't wait…


	13. Chapter 13

"This is the second time in a row that I have to reunite the four of you for the same reason; second challenge and unfortunately the same results. Do any of you have anything to say about that?"

Pushing the inside of his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and moving his head from side to side so he could take a quick look at the three men that were sitting around him in a semicircle, CM Punk arched an eyebrow and then cleared his throat.

By the look of his fellow wrestlers, none of them wanted to say a word to their not so lovely host so he was going to take up the baton and speak for them. After all he was the voice of the voiceless and starting with Randy and ending with Mike, everyone sitting in that field had gone pretty much mute.

"I have something to say." The Chicago native said, his right hand automatically lifting up in the air so his fingers could run through his untamed hair while feeling the intensity of Randy's bluish grey eyes burning his skin inch by inch.

Sure, he was sure that everyone was watching him as well, but all his senses were particularly perceiving Randy's stare more than anyone else's.

"Yes, Mr. Brooks?"

Tilting his head and focusing his eyes on the only woman in the group, Punk blew a breath out of his mouth and then shrugged. "Yeah, well I thought that last time we got reunited because we didn't end the challenge. Today we did, so…"

"You were the last two teams to reach the finish line today; don't you think that is reason enough for me to pull you apart so I could talk to you?" Mandy said, her posture set up and her eyes fixed into his.

"Maybe; but we still finished the race so don't say it's the same thing." He replied in a sing-a-long voice that instead of joy dripped cynicism with every syllable. He probably should have chosen another way to say that, but he just wanted the little reunion to be over already because he was starting to feel crabby.

Maybe the fact that his mood was getting sour was because in a way Mandy was right and his competitive nature was pissed off that he was second last to finish a damn race, or maybe it was just because his knee was stinging with his newly acquired bruise and he was sweaty, tired and overall feeling very pessimistic about his chances to add half a million dollars into his bank account.

"Punk is right, we did finish the race. We didn't make the best time but we still did it." John Cena said from his spot across Punk, his tone coming off as flat and perhaps a bit disinterested. "Besides the whole thing was ridiculous, we were tied foot to foot, we had to jump objects while tied up and now when it's all over you say that we had to do it fast?"

"All the other teams did it, and faster than you… especially you."

"Oh come on this is bullshit, John and Matt made it to the finish line a second before we did and they are inside the house, probably bathed, changed and eating like civilized human beings at the table while we are out here?"

"Five points from your team for the use of foul language Mr. Orton; but anyway, today's challenge was a race and as you know, to win a race you have to go fast to win it; if you are not fast you lose and that's why you are here. Any questions?"

"Thanks a lot, Orton; as if we needed to lose any more points." Punk mumbled, elbowing the younger man and receiving in return an icy cold glance.

He was pissed, Randy didn't have to announce when he was angry because that was something that everyone could notice from miles away, and because Punk was sitting by his side, he could even feel the intensity of his bad humor escaping him in huge waves.

"Are you really going to make us spend the night out here?" John asked and Punk lifted his face to take a look at him.

He wasn't looking better than any of the participants of that day's challenge; his sweaty shirt was sticking to his stomach, there was an angry red bruise on his forearm and he looked tired as hell.

And really, running five miles with a dead weight like Miz had to be exhausting for anyone. Exhausting and frustrating.

At least he and Randy tried to collaborate together and for a few miles they were making good time. Their downfall came because they didn't know that all rules were banned from that challenge and they only found out when they were pushed hard enough to make them fall in the dirt by Swagger.

That has been the first of two hard shoves, and because in the last one he fell over a rock that fucked up his knee, they ended up being second last.

That didn't make him happy and it definitely didn't make Randy happy.

"Take it as a bonding experience with your partner," Mandy said. "You are the two teams that we need to work harder with and out here you'll be able to interact with each other in a different scenario that hopefully will settle nice with you. Besides you won't lack anything, the tents are well equipped, there's food and potable water right over there and in case you need to freshen up, the lake is behind the trees."

"And what about this?" John asked, lifting his foot and pointing at the chain Mandy has been so kind to put on all four of them.

"Well we know that none of you gets along with each other so we didn't want you to drift apart as soon as I go. What we want is for you to stay no more than three feet apart from your partner so we took that as a precaution."

"My lawyer is going to have a field day with this one." Miz said slowly, opening his mouth to communicate for the first time since they were pulled apart.

At those words, John slowly tilted his head towards his partner and snorted. "This is going to be a nightmare."

"Yeah, anyway… tomorrow morning we'll have a very interesting group therapy exercise so make sure to rest, I want you all energized." With that said, Mandy wished them a good night, climbed into her golf car and drove away.

Once she was gone, the four men remained sitting in the same position, all of them keeping silence.

Like John said before, the whole thing was ridiculous and everything was downing on him now. He didn't have to stay there; it was more than obvious that he and Randy were not going to win the whole thing. They already lost two challenges and had numerous points taken off the scarce they had for stupid little things…

It would be hard to get ahead when they were in the rear.

"When I made a living out of doing challenges for MTV, the first thing the producers would tell us was that we had prohibited making pacts with other teams to split the money." Miz said, his voice making Randy's monotonous tone seem like a bucket of happiness.

"Oh joy, he talks!" John exclaimed, "And here I was thinking he was again in a catatonic state… like when we were in the race and he refused to move."

"Shut up and listen to what I have to say." Mike said, leaning forward and pursing his lips. "The four of us, we can help each other in this fiasco of challenges. Either you help us get on top or we help you; the thing is that if either of us wins this, we can spilt the money even. A quarter of a million for each."

Squinting his eyes and tilting his head, Punk looked at Mike. He seemed serious, dead serious and he couldn't lie, he was interested. A quarter was better than nothing…

"And what guarantees that the winners will split the money with the other two?" Randy asked, his voice forcing Punk to turn around to his side so he could take a look at him.

"We can make a contract or something…" John said absent mindedly, "Yeah, I think I like this."

"I don't know." Randy said, his eyes moving from Mike to John, but not even once trying to find Punk's.

"Just think about it; ah, but if we do it, I'll still hate you all; especially you, Cena."

"You hate me?" Cena asked, chuckling and running a hand down his jaw.

"I do." Mike replied defiantly but without looking at him.

Running his tongue over his lips, Randy took in a deep breath and then he got to his feet. "Then we'll think about it. Come on, Punk; I want to take a walk."

For a second, Punk was very tempted to tell Randy to walk in circles around him because he wasn't going to move his ass from that spot, but for some reason that he couldn't quite get, he got up and followed him.

Now, the chain Mandy put on them was at least three feet long so at a different with Pete tying them with a short rope foot to foot, the chain gave then space to move.

It still restricted them from getting too far apart, but at least it was comfortable to walk.

"Please don't tell me you are going to take a dump because trust me, nothing will-"

Before Punk could finish, Randy turned around and without giving him time to register what was going on, he kissed him.

At the contact Punk automatically closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Randy's lips pressing against his own.

Not that he had enough time to savor the feeling, because as soon as it started, it ended when Randy pulled apart and turned around to keep walking.

"You talk too damn much."

"Really? Well I would tell you to do something about it but you already did."

Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, Punk looked at Randy. The so called Viper's back was to him and he couldn't see the look on his face, but judging by the kiss and the tone he used to address him, he could tell that he wasn't as mad as he was back in the field.

"Where did this chick say the lake was?" Randy asked, halting in his tracks and turning around.

"Right behind the trees… as in those trees at the other side." Punk said, his eyes fixing on Orton's and his lips curving intp a grin.

"I want to go there to clean up, I fucking stink." With no other word, Randy walked past him and Punk rolled his eyes.

True, the thought of going with Randy to see him clean-up in a lake was very appealing, but he didn't appreciate the fact that he had to follow him around like a lap dog.

And what did Randy have in mind anyway? After the new development between them he doubted that they will bathe in a lake without at least end up kissing… naked and wet.

Hmmm, he kind of liked that… that morning things ended up too abruptly between them and he could easily see himself wanting a repeat. Randy probably wanted it too, that was why he wanted to take him to the lake.

He was about to tell him that just to rile him up, but when they made it back to their 'camp', the image that greeted him made him stop dead in his tracks.

Shock was his initial response, but then he snorted and crossed his arms to his chest. "Wait a second, didn't they hate each other?"

Randy hummed, looking at Punk briefly before turning his face towards the kissing men. Punk watched too, a smile creeping into his face as he saw Mike grab the back of Cena's head to deepen the kiss.

"Well I guess it's a good thing that Dibiase is boning Mike's French girlfriend after all. Because I don't think this one will be turning back from John."

Arching an eyebrow, Randy blinked slowly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Punk said shrugging. He didn't mean anything with it and he wasn't in the mood to explain himself to Randy; so as a way to deviate the conversation, he gasped and pointed forward. "Oh My God, he's going to blow him."

At those words, Randy's head quickly moved towards Mike and John who were still just kissing while fully clothed and Punk laughed out loud.

"You are such a fucking pervert. Did you really want to see your friend's dick in Mike's mouth? You are sick, Randy, sick!"

Turning back to Punk, Randy's lips curved into a smile and he shook his head. "You are suck a little-"

Not letting him finish, Punk moved forward and pressed his lips into Randy's. And at a difference from their previous kiss, the younger of the two men curled his hand to the back of Punk's neck and parted his lips to deepen the kiss.

Punk took the invitation, pushing into the sweet cave of Orton's mouth and touching his tongue with his own before swirling it around it.

It felt as good as the first time but he still pulled away and took a step back. "Come on, didn't you want us to go to the lake."

Watching him through shinning eyes, Randy licked his lips and smiled. "Yeah, I want that more than anything else right now."

Nodding and biting his lips, Punk noticed the mischief in Randy's eyes and he liked it… "Good, because I can't wait."

XxXxXxXxX

Okay so I wrote this chapter wanting to give you a brief inside look to John and Mike, but I promise you next oen will be all Punk/Randy with no interruptions.


	14. Chapter 14

Pushing the inside of his cheek with the tip of his tongue and tilting his head lazily to the side, the Chicago Native known as CM Punk furrowed his brow in confusion as he walked one step behind Randy Orton.

Now, in the solitude of the woods there was no one around to look at either one them, but if by chance someone came and ran into that unlikely duo, he or she would notice at first glance the way the dark haired man's eyes narrowed to slits and of course, the look of puzzlement that settled on his face.

But Punk wasn't even aware that he was portraying with his features the doubts that started to dance inside his head, and that was just because he was too busy wondering what the hell he was doing?

Was he willingly following Randy Orton towards the lake so they could do God only knew what over there? Really?

Snorting and lifting a hand to his face so that his fingers could pull lightly at his lip ring, the current WWE Champion shook his head.

Yeah, he probably lost his mind sometime during that ridiculous group therapy Vince had forced on all of them because he was definitely doing that.

Never mind that this was Randy Orton, a man he didn't particularly like and a man that probably didn't have him in his favorite people's list.

"What's so funny?" Orton asked, his voice coming off as unusually laid back as he turned around to face his partner. While he asked that, he kept walking, his back to the path ahead and his eyes on Punk.

Humming, Punk shrugged. His eyes were settled deep into the greyish blues starting back at him and deciding that whatever was meant to happen would happen, he dropped his hand to his side.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about a couple of things."

"Really?" Orton asked in a dark whisper, his own head tilting a bit to the right. "Things like what?"

"Just things…" Not wanting to precipitate things because really, for all he knew Orton only wanted to clean up the sweat and stink off his body and nothing more, Punk blew out a breath as his legs carried him further and further into the woods. "So have you thought about what Mike said back there, about teaming up with them and splitting the money?"

"No." The other man replied and even though the answer has been plain and simple, Punk was able to read a hint of amusement on his voice.

"Well I have and I think it's a good option. I mean something is better than nothing, right?"

"Now look at that, I never thought you were a conformist."

Arching an eyebrow, Punk saw that Randy wasn't moving anymore and he halted as well, stopping when he was only a step away. "What can I say, there are sometimes in life when you just have to settle for what you have at hand."

"I don't know… I don't trust those two. Did you see them back there? When no one is watching they are all over each other and when there's a crowd they act as if they can't stand each other. I'm just not feeling it when it comes to them…"

"Ah, I thought John was your friend."

Licking his lips, Randy smiled. "He is and I would trust him in any other occasion; but let's be honest, you can't really trust a man's judgment when he's trying to get a piece of ass and something tells me he wants a nice piece out of that Miz kid. As for the Miz… I don't trust him and I don't like him."

Lifting his head and folding his arms to his chest, Punk nodded. Before going to the program, he couldn't remember ever talking to Orton about anything that wasn't an upcoming match and he was oddly enjoying this side of him.

The man was honest to a point where it was almost brutal and as he was finding out, even when he wasn't much the talking type, when Orton did talk he showed that he was very aware of the things that happened around him.

But that wasn't all, he kind of liked the glint the younger man had in his eyes when he looked at him and why not, he liked the way the man looked and kissed…

Shaking his head as if trying to remember himself, Punk cleared his throat. "Right, right… and what about you, should you be trusted?"

Smiling in a way that his pointy eye teeth were showing, Randy blinked slowly. "You can trust that I don't want a piece of Mizanin's ass."

Humming, Punk just sucked his lip ring into his mouth.

"So that's one thing, what's the other one?" Orton asked, his eyes never leaving Punk's olive green ones.

"The other what?"

"You said you were thinking about a couple of things, what's the other one?"

"Ah," Punk chuckled, reassuming his walking and passing right by Orton. When he was three steps past him, he felt the younger man following him and he waited until they were almost at the lake to respond. "I was just wondering how the fuck are we supposed to get really cleaned up if we can't even take off our pants to get in the lake. Haven't you thought about it? We are chained up and with these things it's impossible to get in there without getting them all wet. Now I don't know about you but I'm not looking forward to sleep in the open with my pants soaking wet."

When he finished talking, he took another step and feeling like he was being yanked back, he almost fell face first into the dirt.

"Hey," He complained, looking back and taking notice that he hadn't been yanked back, it was just that Randy stopped walking and his lack of movement made the chain pull him backwards.

"What are you planning to do in that lake that wearing your pants is such an inconvenience?"

At the question and the tone Randy used to address him, Punk's lips curved into a grin. "Well bathe of course, to start… what about you?"

Snorting and running his fingers down his jaw, Orton's eyes traveled down Punk's body. It was weird, but it was almost as if he was checking him out and the Straight Edge Superstar remembered the words John said to him the other day, that Orton liked him…

Sure, not that the information came as a complete surprise, not after the little moment that happened between them that morning and the kisses they shared the day before.

"Why, same as you, Punk." With that said, Randy's eyes returned to the other man's face and he pursed his lips. If he didn't know any better, Punk would believe that face screamed innocence.

Ah, but the look on those eyes were telling him a different story and Punk had no other choice than to shake his head and turn back again. "Rad, let's get this over with then."

Walking to the lake and finding that there was a small canopy with a few essentials underneath it, the two men walked there and inspected what they had.

Among the things there was soap, shampoo, fresh clothes and as Punk proudly pointed out, pants. He found it amusing because he was sure that he has been the first one to notice that they couldn't change into new pants without tearing the ones they had on and then, they would be unable to put clean ones.

That was something Mandy and Pete clearly overlooked and he was going to make sure to tell them so.

It was when he was grabbing the things he needed that Punk saw out of the corner of his eye that Randy started to take off his shirt. Once off he threw it away and then he immediately went to kick off his sneakers…

Now, the Chicago native has seen Orton wearing a hell of a lot less that a pair of cargo pants before, but for some reason seeing him like that made him wonder about what he was doing again.

But maybe the thing was not in the visuals, it was all in the fact that he could feel Randy looking at him with all the intensity of his penetrating eyes and believe it or not, that made him felt a bit self-conscious.

He was still to take off his own shirt and by the way he was looking at him, he knew that Orton meant to watch him do it.

Now, the current Champ has never suffered from lack of self-esteem, he knew he didn't have the best physique in the world but he also knew he wasn't that bad. Sure, he couldn't cut for shit and more often than not he would chant in his mind that he was awfully fat while running; but at the same time he knew that the ridiculous time he spent at the gym had assured him a toned body that wasn't SO bad.

Overall, the way he looked didn't bother him most of the time, after all he couldn't afford to let it get to him when he made a living out of going out in public while exposing his not so perfect but drug free body to everyone that cared to look.

Ah, but Randy… the man was on an entirely different level… he was physically perfect and seeing him shirtless was making him think that life was not fair.

"Are you going to stand there all day long?" Randy asked, his voice back at being monotonous and bored.

Rolling his eyes, Punk took his shirt off and grabbing a bar of soap, he made it to the lake with Randy on his tracks.

Once the water was up to his waist he stopped, submerged the soap underneath the surface and then he pulled it out to start rubbing it to his chest.

He did it almost angrily, dragging the now slippery bar across his chest and then to his stomach.

"You are going to make that thing disappear in a matter of nothing." Randy said, walking closer to Punk and taking the soap into his own hand.

At that, Punk blinked slowly and pursed his lips, watching as Randy started to leather himself with his soap. "Couldn't have you grabbed one for your own? I mean I don't know if you noticed, but I was kind of using that."

Without answering back, Randy looked into the other man's eye and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he gathered a nice amount of soap in his hand and started to rub it against Punk's stomach.

With his breath stopping for a second, Punk looked down at the way Randy's hand moved against him. "What are you doing?"

"Bathing…"

"Oh okay, because if it was something else I would have to ask you to stop. You know, I don't usually allow guys get his hands all over me the first time we bathe together if it's not for cleaning purposes only."

Arching an eyebrow and flashing him the shadow of a smile, Randy's hand slid up to his chest and then slowly underneath his chin. He did it without saying a word and while it happened, Punk refused to break the eye contact.

Now, it was true that the touching wasn't too forward, but he couldn't deny that it wasn't completely chaste either and as Randy kept doing his hands all over his flesh, Punk could already feel his body reacting to the moment.

In a way it was a good thing that he was still wearing his pants, because the last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself.

So that way, Randy used the soap to clean Punk's chest, stomach and neck. But when he was smoothing the older man's shoulders, Punk grabbed the soap once again and started to reciprocate the favor.

He did it while flashing his patented crooked grin and damn, if watching Randy's perfect body wasn't tempting enough, touching him was a whole different thing. His flat stomach felt as if it was made of steel, his chest broad and strong but yet smooth and nope, he couldn't remember ever feeling his mind getting so clouded only with a little bit of touching.

If he didn't put his mind where it should be, he was going to…

Before he could finish that trace of thought, Randy leaned forwards and kissed him full on the lips. It was a furtive kiss that never reached its full potential and before Punk could even think to kiss him back, his partner pulled away and snorted.

"Ah, sorry. I forgot you only went for cleaning purposes only." Once he said that, he took a handful of water and rinsed the soap out of him.

Punk let him do it, his mind trying to register that yes, he was waist deep into a secluded lake with his cock semi-hard while Orton was rinsing him with his own hands.

It was crazy… and crazy as it was he was quite enjoying this side of Orton.

"Can you hear that?" Randy asked while taking the soap in his hand once Punk's upper body was clean.

"What?" He asked with a frown, glancing over his shoulder to see if there was someone there looking at what they were doing. But there was no one and when he looked back at Randy, the so called Viper was smirking and there was unmistakable mischief in his eyes. "I didn't hear anything."

"Exactly. It's the first time since we got here that you are not running your mouth talking nonsense and it's somehow refreshing."

Lifting his head up, Punk was about start one of his infamous rants just to bother Randy, but before he could even open his mouth, he felt the palm of the other man pressing against the bulge forming inside his pants and he immediately swallowed whatever he was about to say.

While touching him, Randy arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry, this is still cleaning purposes only." And just like that, his hand sneaked inside his pants, underneath his boxers and around his cock.

"Liar," Punk said in a dark whisper. "I think you are just trying to feel me up."

Once that was said, Orton squeezed him lightly before sliding his fingers all the way down to the base and then up to the tip. By then he was fully erect and he wasn't going to lie, amused and very interested.

"If I would be feeling you up, I wouldn't have soap in my hand and I would be trying to kiss you. Who knows? Maybe I would be kissing my way down your chest and stomach to get right where I'm 'cleaning' you so I could really feel you up."

Running his tongue across his lips, Punk tilted his head to the side and blinked. His eyes were also sparkling darkly and he felt like laughing out loud because the devil take him straight to hell, Randy was hitting on him and hard…

Not that he didn't like it, quite the contrary.

"I never said that I didn't allow guys to kiss me, the rule is only about not letting them get their hands on me just to feel me up."

As soon as his words were out, Randy claimed his lips in a searing kiss and not wasting a second longer, Punk kissed him back.

For several seconds they kissed long and deep; tongues tangling together, breaths mingling and teeth pulling teasingly at each other's lips. It was enough to leave him breathless bet wanting to prolong the moment as far as he could, Punk tilted his face to the right and kissed with the same fervor that Randy was using on him.

Without pulling away, Punk grabbed the soap and did the same thing Randy did with him; he undid the bottom and the zipper of Randy's pants and without any kind of shame he released his hardness to take him in his hand.

The whole thing was surreal and definitely not a thing he would normally do. Sure, he wasn't Saint Punk and he was the first to admit that he had his fair share of romances in the past; but ever since he made the journey into adulthood, he has dated every one of the men and woman he has sexually interacted with and he and Randy were far from dating.

Hell, they weren't even friends…

Before he could put his thinking machine into full use, he felt his cock being set free and soon after it was pressing hard against Randy's own, their bodies glued together and the friction the man kissing him fervently was creating with his slow movements was making him desist of any kind of coherent thinking.

Giving into the moment, Punk started to add a few movements of his own. His hips darting forward and meeting Randy's in a hot duel. It was crazy, really… and he briefly recalled that the last time he dried humped while naked was when he was in high school.

It has been with a guy too and no, he hadn't dated that one either. That right there has been his first gay experience and it has been underneath the bleachers while a football game was taking place on school.

Now, he hadn't planned that brief encounter, at the time he was seventeen and still confused about his sexuality and even though his first time with a girl has been something he liked, he would always find himself looking at guys in a way that wouldn't particularly be labeled as normal to others.

Now that he could look back at it and compare, that guy he hooked up with that night has been much like Randy; ridiculous good looking and a very good kisser. Anyway, for long weeks, the boy has been showing special interest on him that clearly provoked the desired reaction and in his youthful immaturity, he fell for it.

Things that night didn't get as far as they could go through; yeah they touched, they kissed hungrily and he was even pushed down to his knees so he could perform the first and worse blow job of his life. But apparently he didn't did so bad because the guy ended up shooting hot semen all over the place and even when he tried to evade it, some of it fell right on his tongue.

That has also been the last time he was with him. After that the guy turned out to be a complete jerk and next time he saw him, things ended awfully when he tried to make fun of him in front of the whole school for being a fucking fag.

Embarrassed and very much angered, Punk reacted like the man he later turned out to be, jumping on the guy and beating the hell out of him.

After that experience, Punk only went for women and it wasn't until much later in his life that he started to explore more deeply the attraction he always felt towards men.

Now it was this, of all the men in the world he was letting his raging hormones overpower his senses with Randy Orton and truth be told, he didn't give a damn if it was right or wrong.

How could he care when Orton was there, kissing him senseless and touching him all over with those expert hands of his?

Besides he was older now and unlike that time at the bleachers, he was wiser and much experienced; he wasn't going to get burnt with Orton for a heavy make out session anyway, or was he?

Not wanting to think anymore, he allowed sensation to win over him and it wasn't until things got a lot heated up and they ended up jerking each other until their release came that he was able to shake his head and snort at the absurdity of it all.

"This is insane." He mumbled, putting his now limp manhood back to his pants and zipping up.

Randy agreed, nodding with a satisfied smile on his lips and gathering himself as well. "I know, I mean I never thought you were into guys."

Frowning, Punk snorted. "And who told you I was? I'm telling you, if it was something you heard around then it's a lie."

At his playful tone, Randy arched an eyebrow and leaning to him once again. He kissed him.

"Come on, let's get out of here before it gets too late."

After Randy said that, they both cleaned up for real this time and with their pants dripping wet, they made it back to their sleeping tents.

When they got there, John and Mike were nowhere to be found but Punk didn't thought too much of it, he just got in the tent with Randy and after fooling around some more, they fell asleep.

Now, the Chicago native didn't know it, but falling into such a deep slumber was the best thing that could happen to him; he slept like few times before and when morning came and Mandy annoyingly woke them up to start their morning therapy, he was feeling rested.

After all their little time out in the woods hadn't been so bad and after their chains were taken off and breakfast was served and then eaten, he found himself sitting Indian style in the middle of the field while staring dreamily into the distance.

In a couple of minutes they were going to have another one of those annoying meetings and they were all waiting for it to start so it would be over soon.

So, he was sitting there and Randy was with John, talking and every now and then sending Punk a look that talked volumes.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Blinking a couple of times and leering to the side to take a glance at Mike, Punk shrugged. "Sure."

"It's about Randy, I just wanted to warn you about him."

"Warn me?" Punk asked in a chuckle, turning around so that he could look at Mike in the eyes.

"Yes… listen, he and Cena… I don't know what they are up to but they definitely are trying to mess with the two of us. Look at them plotting right now so be careful alright; after all Orton has a reputation of fucking and then disposing of people as if they were nothing. He does it to brag about… I heard him, talking about you and a lake with John."

Pursing his lips and swallowing down, Punk lifted his face and remained quiet; his eyes darkening and his teeth grinding together.

"John is no better, he has a way of making people do things and… just watch out."

"Thanks for the head ups but I'll be fine, if Randy and I are interacting it is only because we are being forced into this, that's it. Nothing more…"

"Right," Mike nodded, and without saying another word he got to his feet and disappeared.

Once alone, Punk ran his fingers through his hair and snorting bitterly, he got to his feet as well and then got into the tent.

How could he be so stupid? And what the fuck has he been thinking?

"Guess what John found out? It's about our next challenge." Came the voice of Orton and at the sound of it Punk cringed.

Sometime while he was unaware, he got into the tent too and now he was walking to him. "I don't care so save it, Orton."

Hearing the acrid tone Punk was using, Randy stopped on his track and frowned. He looked kind of confused but Punk didn't let that stop him; he wasn't sure if what Mike said was true but he was still pissed.

"What's with you now?"

Turning on his heels, Punk shrugged. "Nothing," He said though clenched teeth, pushing Randy and trying to walk pass him.

"Hey, hey… what is it, Phil?" The younger one said trying to reach for him but as soon as his hand touched his shoulder, Punk pushed him away.

"Don't call me that and don't you fucking touch me."

Taken aback, Orton blinked a couple of times, but before he could say something, Punk turned around and left…


	15. Chapter 15

It's been forever since I wrote for this story, I know and I'm sorry. But I'm trying to slowly start writing again for certain stories and since this is one of my favorite pairings, I'll keep this one alive. I'm a little rusty when it comes to writing but hopefully I'll get the hang of it soon; other than that enjoy.

XxXxXxX

"Bro, I can't believe you refused to do the group therapy with the rest of us. That was sick!"

Hearing the words but choosing to ignore them in favor of throwing against the wall the small tennis ball that each one of the groups were given as part of that day's activities, CM Punk blinked slowly, his eyes following the ball as it bounced against the wall and back into his hand.

"That threw the Mandy chick off, and Pete too. Do you think they are dating? She's kind of hot."

Still ignoring Matt, or as the wrestling world called him, Zack Ryder, Punk threw the ball again and repeated the motion; seeing it hit the wall, bounce back and catching it with his right hand for what seemed the hundredth time in the last half hour or so.

"Randy was pissed too, no… he was fuming. Everyone noticed it and we were expecting him to explode when Pete took fifty points from your team."

Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the Straight Edge superstar closed his eyes at the mention of that name and snorting bitterly, he shook his head as a way to vanish said man off his mind.

No, he didn't want to put his thinking machine into use with the Randy thing, not at all; if he did that he was going to get even crabbier than what he already was and given the trouble he already created for himself, he didn't need that.

No, what he needed was to try and remain stoic and in control.

But anyway, fifty points… even in his rotten mood, the knowledge that they only took that pathetic amount of points from his fiasco of a team made him feel disappointed. Yeah, he was hoping for a disqualification or something, after all he basically told Pete to shove his stupid activities up his ass before walking out on everyone.

Not that he went too far, there were not many places he could go to while in the house so he just walked to the dining hall, lay down on top of a table and started to throw the ball to the wall.

After that little number that seemed to take everyone by surprise, Mandy came to him and tried to talk things out; but by then Punk had already succumbed into a silence zone and he plain and simply ignored her until she walked away in defeat.

"I'm going to get the fuck out of here tonight." He said finally, speaking for the first time since his outburst at the beginning of that day's scheduled group therapy.

"Are you serious, bro? I mean we are in the middle of nowhere so how the hell are you going to leave?"

Catching the ball and closing his tattooed fingers around it, Punk shrugged. "I'll find a way."

And in his mind he knew he would; he could walk for miles until he finding a trace of civilization or he could steal the bus and drive away. The thing was that he needed to get out of there and the sooner the better.

"What about the money? Don't you want it?"

Shrugging again, Punk started to throw the ball again. "I don't need it; and I don't need this shit either." Unable to help it, his mind went back to Randy Orton…

Yes, to Randy fucking Orton. He still couldn't believe he has been so gullible when it came to him and that pissed him off to no end. Hell, the knowledge that he has never fallen to anyone's charm as easily as he has fallen for Orton's was enough to make his blood boil and he just knew that if he didn't get away that night, something was going to go awfully wrong between them.

A war, an epic battle of majestic proportions, who knew?

True, by abandoning the program like a thief in the middle of the night would probably get in trouble with Vince, but he didn't give a fuck about that; no, all he wanted was to bail out.

"Bro, Orton is going to be even more pissed."

At the second mention of the so called Viper, Punk sighed. It was crazy, but for the good part of the past ten minutes or so he has been feeling the distinct feeling that his soon to be ex-partner was watching him. It was almost a physical thing, the intensity of Orton's stare burning his skin from afar.

He has been trying to ignore that, but as it turned out it was almost near impossible.

"Do you know what I hate?" The Chicago native asked out loud, making sure that Orton would hear him from his place at the other side of the room. Then, once his question was tossed out he sat on top of the table Indian Style and turning his head so that his eyes could meet the other man's he went on. "I hate when people fucking stare at me, it pisses me off."

So yes, their eyes meet briefly, but soon after Punk turned his face away, jumped to his feet and feeling more than Randy's eyes on him, he walked out of the dining hall.

What happened next took him by surprise as he didn't see it coming, but as he started to make his way back to his and Orton's room to plan on his escape, he felt five fingers circling his forearm and forcing him around.

Before he could open his mouth to protest the rude intrusion to his personal space, he saw that Randy was the one that grabbed him and in annoyance, he rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"What the fuck is your problem?" The third generation wrestler asked in a hiss, his mood obviously more than a little sour.

Now, as juvenile as it was, Punk just lifted his head without breaking the eye contact and snorted. "Problem? I don't have a problem other than you standing in front of my face, now get the fuck off."

Clenching his jaw, Randy nodded. "So that's how it's going to be, you are going to act like a dick now?"

"Yes, I mean why not? You act like an ass so it's only fair that I get to be the dick."

After saying that, Punk tried to turn away and leave the scene, but he forgot that Randy's hand was still curled around his forearm in an iron grip and thus he was unable to go further than two steps away.

"Get your hands off." He said through clenched teeth while refusing to look at the other man.

As a response, Randy's hand remained in place, but he did eased off the hold and after taking in a sigh, he asked something that made Punk turn around to look at him with something close to sympathy. "Was it something I said? Just tell me what the hell happened."

Taking note on the somber tone Randy used to ask that question, Punk pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. So alright, after thinking about it with extreme care, he decided that Mike probably told him what he told him as a way to try to mess up with him, but still… there were two things that still bothered him and those two things were the reasons his mood was so acrid.

First, Orton was making him feel weak. No matter if the other man genuinely liked him or not, the fact that he allowed himself to get carried away in whatever attraction they were feeling for each other was wrong. Fuck it, they weren't even friends. They had never gotten along and probably never will so it was ridiculous that they all of a sudden developed a liking to heavily make out.

And second, the reason that was making him distrust Orton more than ever. "You told Cena about what happened at the lake."

At his statement, Randy squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "I didn't tell Cena shit, who told you that?"

"Oh come on Randal, Mike came to me this morning running his mouth about how he heard you talking about what happened at the lake; he also told me to watch out for you because you hitting on me was a scheme between you and our dear John."

Pushing the corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue, Randy's eyes turned a shade darker as Punk watched him without blinking. "That little shit…" Letting go of Punk's arm, the younger of the two men started to turn away. "I'm going to beat the fuck out of him."

Punk watched Randy walk a few steps away from him and before he could give it a good thought, he started to talk again. "I know he was lying; but that doesn't take away from the fact that he knows about what happened because he overheard you talking to Cena."

At his words, Orton swirled on his feet and walked back to Punk, only stopping when he was face to face with him. "I never told Cena anything, so if that's what got your panties all in a bunch, then be free to feel like an fucking ass."

"Fuck you, Randal" Punk snapped because he was angry, angry at himself for allowing Orton to affect his mind. "I don't care either way if you told him or not; I'm done with this shit and I'm done with you."

Lifting his hands and placing them on Punk's chest, Orton pushed the Straight Edge superstar as hard as he could and when his back collided against the wall behind him, the Viper moved with ease towards him and pressed his mouth to his, silencing whatever protest that could be voiced.

The kiss was hard and almost edging in brutal; it was even stealing the air out of his lungs as his mouth was filled with Orton's tongue exploring at will.

It was almost as if the other man wanted to make a statement with that kiss and Punk was just unable to pull away. In fact, it was Orton the one that pulled away and that made Punk feel even more pissed than before. Yes, pissed; because even though he made up his mind about cutting things with Orton, he ended up responding to the kiss with the same fervor.

"I don't like playing around, Punk, and I don't like misunderstandings either; so when I'm done with Mike…"

"Nothing is going to happen when you are done with Mike, because by then I'll be on my way to Chicago and out of the WWE forever; meaning: this is the last time I'll be seeing your stupid face."

Snorting, Orton licked his lips and tilting his head to the side, he stepped back. "Right," With that said, he turned around and started to walk away. "Until later, Phil. We have a talk pending."

Punk watched him, and taken upon an impulse, he raised both his hands and flipped Orton behind his back. "Until never, Randal. I have nothing to talk to you." With that done, he also turned around and started to walk away, only that he headed directly to the main door of the house and walked out; his intention leaving the program and Randy Orton behind for good.


	16. Chapter 16

First of all, thanks for the reviews, guys, I really appreciate them. Second, I still think this story is totally random so if it doesn't make sense at some point, please forgive me. I have fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading ;)

XxXxXxX

"A gate? You have to be fucking kidding me!" Punk yelled out of the top of his lungs as his hands closed in fists around the metallic bars that were guarding the entrance of the house. "I can't believe this shit!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, the Chicago native snarled his lips in an angry grimace and then he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the gate as his eyes drank from the panorama outside.

Outside… what a concept; so close and yet so hard to reach.

Sure, from his spot at the entrance door of the big house, Punk only had to take one small step to be out there and that's why he went there in his attempt to break free of the program, because it was an easy way out; but he hadn't been aware that there was a huge gate blocking any escape whatsoever and that was the main reason for his current frustration.

"Fuck."

Hissing through clenched teeth, the tattooed wrestler forced his head forward, almost as if he was trying to squeeze it through the gate.

Not that he would be able to squeeze his head or any part of his anatomy through such kind of gate, not at all, but in his increasing rotten mood, he just felt like doing it.

Now, if it wasn't because he didn't believe in such a thing as luck, Punk would have said that he has been cursed with the worse kind of bad luck when he delivered his infamous promo in front of the cameras; because right after that, he was immediately forced into this stupid program, he was paired with a guy he couldn't stand, he has failed to win any of the challenges and yeah, why not throw into the bus the start and demise of his little thing with Orton?

It was as if destiny has mistaken him for her own personal punching back and as of yet, she wasn't giving him room to breathe. It was bitch slap after bitch slap and he was sure that a sucker punch was waiting to knock him out.

"Fight!"

Rolling his eyes as he heard the man known as Evan Bourne running and yelling somewhere behind his back, Punk tightened his grip on the gate before pushing his face against it with more impetus.

It was almost painful, but in his mood he embraced the harsh feeling.

"Hey, didn't you hear, there's a fight!" Stopping on his tracks, Evan squealed.

"Let me guess, Orton and Mike." Punk said in a bored tone, feeling bitter about having to mention Randy's name."

"Randy, Mike, Cena, Ted… is a damn chaos back there, everyone is fighting everyone, common!"

Furrowing his brows, Punk turned around to see that the high flying sensation was already gone. Now, he couldn't lie, going to see the guys fighting seemed more appealing than staying at the door doing nothing productive so before he could think too much on it, his feet started to carry him to the place where all the action was taking place.

Much like he has been told, the first thing he noticed as he stepped inside the room was that there was a damn brawl taking place. It was a total chaos.

At first glance, he couldn't say who was fighting who, but he could see Randy, Cena, Miz, Cody, Ted… it seemed as if everybody but him was involved.

It was beautiful…

Unable to help it, Punk snorted in amusement, crossing his arms to his chest as he took a particular interest in Randy. Sure, he has seen the guy fight countless of times and he has even fought him himself; but one thing was fighting a wrestling match in a ring and another very different to fight in a dining room out of anger.

So yeah, with his eyes drawn to the Viper, Punk pursed his lips and nodded in appreciation. A jerk he could be, but damn, he was a damn good looking jerk.

The swiftness of his movements, the fierce look on his face, the way he was trying to push John Cena out of the way so that he could get to Mike… he was… fuck, the man was made out of pure perfection and in some way, that made him feel even bitterer.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Looking to the side, Punk saw Mandy looking freaked out about the whole thing and he smirked his crooked smirk.

"Me? Fuck no."

As he said that, Punk saw how Dibiase snuck behind Mike and catching him unaware, he wrapped his arm around his neck. Apparently, the man was looking for retaliation after Mike's attack the other night and he was getting it.

"Oh my God he's going to kill him."

Unable to tear his eyes away, Punk saw how Cena turned around to push Dibiase away from his partner, moment that Orton took to shove his friend away to finally connect his fist to Mike's face.

It was really a chaotic situation and being a man that thrived off controversy, he laughed out loud.

"Don't you laugh, stop them!"

Feeling a pair of hands settle on his back, Punk was shoved forward and he almost fell on his damn face, but before he could turn to see who the fuck pushed him, his jaw got in the middle of the fight and a punch landed right on it.

"Son of a bitch-" He hissed in pain, turning around in a quick maneuver before his trained legs acted on impulse and connected against a stomach.

As it turned out, the one he ended up hitting was Cena. He wasn't sure if the big guy has been the one that punched him but whatever.

That was how he got involved in the chaos and before he knew it, he was fighting Cena while Daniel Bryan did everything in his power to hold him back.

Things after that happened too fast and he wasn't even sure why the two men were teaming up against him; but even in his confusion, he did his best to fight John off with his legs.

Sure, with Bryan expertly restricting his arms behind his own back, Punk was basically getting more than what he was giving, but he has never been one to give up so easily so he persevered.

"I'm going to bust your fucking ass if you don't fucking let go off my hands, Bryan." Punk yelled, trying to wrestle his way out of the hold so that he could handle Cena accordingly.

"The only ass that will be busted is yours," John said, ready to punch him in the guts.

In the middle of it all, Randy came to his aid, pressing his hands against Cena's chest and pushing him harshly off Punk.

At that new development, Bryan let go off him and went somewhere else so Punk brought his hand up to his aching chin and rubbed it.

"Run, you goat face, I'll still get you for this."

"What the fuck, John?" Randy spat, his face flushed and his eyes shining in anger.

"No, don't John-me, Orton. You started it by hitting Mike." John yelped, pushing Orton the same way Orton pushed him.

"Yeah, well keep your little bitch on a leash if you don't want me to mess up his face for good-"

Before Orton could finish, Mike sprung forward. "I'm not anyone's bitch!"

Not wanting to be left out and feeling livid with John, Punk jumped on Cena and started to fight him. Now that no one was trying to restrict him, he was going to do a number on him.

But before he could properly start, a new person grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from John, it was Randy.

"Get your fucking hands off of me, Orton."

Not minding his words, Randy dragged him to the back of the room and once they were both there, the younger of the two pressed him against the wall. "I don't want to fight you, Phil." Amidst his ire, Punk looked at him, getting caught up in the bluish steel stare of his eyes. "I don't want to fight you-"

Now, after saying that, Punk saw as Randy's face got a little bit closer to his and for a millisecond he was sure that he was going to kiss him right there… and yeah, he was going to let him do it…

"STOP IT!"

At the sound of Mandy yelling, everybody froze, their heads turning towards her to find her standing on top of table.

"This is enough! I had enough of all of you! Is this how you represent the big company that sponsors you?" She yelled, obviously feed up with the bunch of them already. "You are all grown up men so stop acting like a bunch of brats!"

"Brats? You irresponsible bitch! Look at what this brutes did to me on your oh so called watch!" Mike yelled, pointing at his bloody lip. "I'm going to sue everybody!"

"Shut up, shut up! I'm the one that will sue your company! Now get out, I want everybody out of the house now."

"Me included?" Evan asked from his place on top of a table. As always, he was surrounded by his laid back aura and he didn't seem undisturbed at the turn of events.

On her part, Mandy was more than disturbed, she was fuming. "Everybody out." She hissed, her eyes big as plates and her face flushed a deep red.

"Well open the damn gate and I'll be more than happy to get the fuck out." Punk spat, feeling extremely aware that Orton hadn't backed off from him and that he was basically pinning him against the wall.

As if possessed, the woman ran out of the room and next thing they knew, she disappeared into her office while the gate remained locked and they inside the house.

"I'm out of here." Punk hissed, pushing Randy away and making it to their room.

His intention has been to grab anything he could find that may be helpful and then see if he could escape through the window or something.

But as soon as he stepped inside the room, the door closed behind his back with a loud bang and when he turned, he saw that Randy was there, still looking worked out after the fight.

"Punk,"

"Not now, Randal; I'm pissed as fuck about the fact that you got me into a stupid fight." He said, opening the window so that he could take a peek outside.

They were like twenty feet from ground level and he started to muse if he could make the jump without breaking anything.

But before he could come to a conclusion, he was grabbed by the shoulders and in a matter of nothing Randy forced him to swirl around; then when they were face to face, the Apex Predator darted forward and catching him by surprise, he kissed him… making him momentarily forget the reason why he was mad at him…


	17. Chapter 17

XxXxXxX

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

The words flowed out of his mouth with ease, they always did; what really made Punk struggle in that particular moment was gathering the force of will to push Randy away from him while keeping his face as neutral as he could.

Not that he did a really good job out of it; he has never been able to master the art of turning off his facial expressions and more often than not they betrayed him and gave away what he was truly thinking or feeling.

It has been like that since he could remember; he was born lacking that special filter that connected his brain to his mouth AND his facial expressions and as a result he was labeled as being impetuous. Of course, impetuous was what nice people called him on his good days but that was not the point.

The point was that Randy Orton just kissed him and that wasn't good like at all. Didn't he get the hint when he told him not to fucking touch him? Because he was sure that he told him that and it was impossible that the man could be so fucking dumb as not to understand it.

It was simple, he didn't want Orton to touch him and he didn't want Orton to kiss him. He couldn't simplify that even more than it already was…

As all that passed through his head, Punk observed as Randy ran the ball of his thumb down his jaw as he blinked slowly. "I was kissing you, you dumbass."

"No shit; I kind of figured that out when your stupid tongue was trying to get down my throat." As he spat those words, his face turned into a scowl. It was all for special effects, he wanted Randy to get into that thick skull of his that his lips were not welcome to kiss his ever again.

"Yeah, well I didn't hear you protesting then. In fact, I would say that you were kissing me back so I don't see why you have to be such an ass about it now."

Lifting his chin up, Punk allowed his eyes to remain glued to the man standing in front of him and then he pushed the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He couldn't argue about what Orton just said because it was true, he has kissed him back and yeah, he liked it. "I'm protesting about it now. You know what they say, better late than never."

Blowing out a breath, Orton pouted his lips and took a step towards Punk, invading his personal space as the icy steel of his stare delved deep into Punk's greens.

"I don't get you, Punk, I really don't." The younger of the two said. His voice sounded as if it was ripped out of his throat and the low undertones it carried made Punk wonder if he really needed to talk like that.

That was basically a bedroom voice… actually, it was the voice he had used for him the previous night as they lay together in that tent in the woods and at the memory of what happened in there, a liquid warm sensation settled on his lower stomach.

Sure, it has been an interesting night full of secret touches and lots of kissing and he enjoyed it, he wasn't going to deny it; but last night was already in the past and he wasn't going to dwell on it.

Besides what happened between them was something Punk never did, he didn't randomly hook up so the best he could do was forget it and move on.

"Up until this morning we were doing just fine and then all of a sudden you started acting like an ass; but now when I kiss you, you kiss me back just so that you can go back at being a fucking jerk a minute later? What's with you?"

"Oh come on, Randal; you know that we've never gotten along so don't act like this is coming out of nowhere. Yes, we fooled around and we both liked it, but sharing a few kisses doesn't mean that we are going to act like the best of buddies now."

Yeah, it has been more than a few kisses but he could do without mentioning the fact that they had jerked each other off at the lake or that they went ahead and repeated it at the tent.

"I don't-" Randy started to say and then clenched his jaw, his eyes refusing to leave Punk's. 'I don't want us to act like best buddies."

Punk's eyes flickered; Randy didn't need to say how he wanted them to 'act' for him to get it. But before The Viper could explain the implications of what he just said and make the situation a hell of a lot more awkward, he snorted and rubbed his thumb to the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, I forgot that your best buddy is Cena, the one you ran to tell him what happened between us?"

Throwing his head back as if in exasperation, Randy pushed the tip of his tongue pass his lips and pressed it to the corner of his mouth. That was a motion that caught Punk's attention despite himself. He knew how nice that tongue felt running along the sensitive skin of his neck and for some reason, the memory of it invaded his mind.

"I didn't tell Cena what happened; I told you this already."

"Yeah I remember that you told me; if I'm not mistaken it was right before you started that little fight out there, a fight where I need to add that Cena attacked me. But forgetting all about that, I'm going back to the point and I'll do so by saying this as simple as I can so I hope you get it once and for all. I don't fucking believe you so leave me the fuck alone."

Randy nodded, his eyes lowering down to the floor. For a second he looked dejected, but then he lifted his gaze back to him and grabbed Punk by the wrist and gave a hard pull. "So you are going to trust Miz on this one? Fine, let's find both him and Cena so we can clarify this."

With that said, he started to walk and dragged Punk with him.

Rolling his eyes a bit dramatically, Punk puffed out a breath. He could stop Randy, he could either yank his hand away from the grip or he could fight him; but he didn't do any of those things, he just followed his so called rival outside their room.

"Just drop it Randal. Come on, I have an escape to make and I don't want to keep postponing it."

"I'm not going to drop it." The third generation wrestler said, once again using that melting tone of voice.

Snorting, Punk shook his head. "Alright, lets say that we go to them and Cena says that you didn't tell him and all that shit; yeah, it could happen, but the fact is that it will not change anything. We are never going to get along for real, we are like two strong forces meant to fight each other until the end of times. We are forever going to clash horns, we are like water and oil, we are like Batman and-"

Before Punk could go on with his ramble, Randy stopped on his tracks, turned around so he could face him and then he shook his head. "Just shut up. Jesus, man… don't you a have a turn off button? Wait, I think you do." Without any further ado, he sprung forward and kissed him once more.

Yes, it was a short kiss that didn't reach its true potential but he kissed him nonetheless. Didn't they go over this already? Punk was sure they did when he told him not to kiss him.

"You do that again and I'm going to punch you."

"Yeah, sure. Anyway, this is Cena right here so let's get this over with." With that said Randy kicked the door open to find Cena and Miz in an extremely compromised position.

"Man, this is just what I needed to see, tsk. Thanks Orton, thanks a lot. Now I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life." Punk said with a roll of his eyes as he swirled on his feet to leave the room.

"What the fuck? Get off!" Mike squealed as he pushed Cena away.

"Randy!"

Grabbing Punk so that he wouldn't leave, Randy ignored what he and the Chicago native just walked into and went straight to the point. "Cover that little thing you call dick and answer me this, what were we talking about this morning?"

Opening his mouth and widening his eyes as far as they would go, John snorted in disbelief. "Are you serious? Orton, this is not a fucking good time."

"This… this is not what it looks like. No… it isn't…" Mike stuttered, his face pale while he hid his nakedness behind a pillow.

Cena wasn't making much of an effort to cover up as the younger man; he was just kneeling over the mattress, naked as the day he was born and yeah, with his erection standing flushed and proud against his stomach.

Punk tried not to look, but it was a bit hard not to and at the absurdity of it all he snorted. "This is ridiculous. Weren't you two in a fight a few minutes ago?"

After saying that, Punk saw out of the corner of his eye that Orton just grabbed his phone and took a picture of the two men. "What were we talking about, John?"

"What are you doing?" Mike yelled, his face now a crimson red. "Get the fuck out of here you fucking pervert!"

Turning his attention to Miz, Randy took another picture. "Why did you tell Punk that I was talking about him with John?"

"Randy, just get out, now." Cena said, apparently his mood getting sour.

On his part, Mike was looking mortified.

"Tell me or first thing I'm going to do is send this picture to Ted. I'm sure he knows your girlfriend's phone number by memory and I'm more than sure he won't hesitate on sending it to her."

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Mike hissed as he started to get off the bed, but when he realized that he was naked, he just snarled his lips and sent them a look that could kill.

"Why did you tell him that?"

"I just wanted to mess with him alright," He yelled as John sat on the bed, his erection already flat. "I heard John asking you about you two and when you refused to say I just assumed something happened. It was written all over your face."

Fixing his eyes on Mike, Punk sucked into his mouth his lip ring. His mind was swirling and a big part of it was telling him that he should go to Miz and beat the hell out of him. "I should beat the crap out of you, you know. But there's no way I'll get close to the two of you while naked. But…" He said, taking a step back. "I have your girlfriend's number too, so…"

Arching an eyebrow, he yanked Randy's phone out of his hands and ran outside.

"You little son of a bitch!" John yelled and Punk didn't have to look back to know that he was running after him.

It was ridiculous, it really was, but even though Punk ran to his room with the phone in his hand as fast as he could. Yeah, he didn't have Maryse's number like he told them and even if he had he wouldn't send her the picture, but John didn't know that and John was running after him and by the things he was yelling after him, he was mad.

Once inside his room, he closed the door and made it to the window. He could jump and make an escape like he has been planning too, but there was something that was making him hold back.

Randy was right, he never told John a thing.

"Punk."

Listening to such a deep voice saying his name, Punk looked back and saw that Randy was in the room as well. The door was closed so he was going to assume that either John was waiting outside or that he went back to his lover boy.

Not that it mattered…

Blinking his eyes a couple of times, Punk looked out to the dark skies one more time and then he puffed out a breath and walked back to Randy. Once face to face with him, he put the phone in his hand and closed the distance between them so he could kiss him.

He kissed him hard and deep, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer as his tongue swirled against that of the other man's. Randy reciprocated, letting his phone fall to the floor before both his hands settled on Punk's hips.

It felt more than nice to kiss Randy with such intensity and getting caught in the moment, he pushed him against the door, his hands sliding beneath the younger man's shirt so he could touch his hard stomach.

Yeah, he was aware that John or anyone could walk in any moment and ruin the moment, but he was going to take what he could while he could.

Tilting his head to the right, Punk continued to kiss Randy, his hips darting forward so he could feel the way his fellow wrestler was enjoying the moment. He was enjoying it too, both their erections pressing together through the fabrics of their pants.

But then, before he could fall victim to his weakness, Punk pulled away, his ragged breath puffing out of his mouth as his eyes found Randy's. "We are never going to work, you know that." And they wouldn't, soon his contract was going to end and what would they do to keep contact? "I'm sorry."

Once he said that, he turned around, made it to the window and jumped.

It was a tough landing, but he managed and once he was up to his feet, he looked around and started to walk into the woods.

Not that he made it too far, because before he could disappear, a familiar voice filled the silence that was taking over outside. "Punk, where the hell do you think you are going?"

Cringing, Punk turned his head to the side and saw the last person on earth he wanted to see in that moment. No, it wasn't Randy ready to make his resolution crumble. No, it was worse than Randy… "Fuck."


End file.
